Chuck vs the FBI
by Quinis
Summary: Summary: Chuck really didn't expect Bryce Larkin to come back into their lives; he's supposed to be dead! Neal never intended for his life as an FBI 'criminal informant' to cross paths with his spy one. But, while on a regular case, Peter downloads a copy of the Intersect and suddenly; they collide.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **A new Chuck and White Collar Crossover!

_ Summary: Chuck's content. He has Sarah, they have their dream house and a baby on the way. Their spy work is perfectly balanced with their normal lives. He really didn't expect Bryce Larkin to come back into their lives; he's supposed to be dead!_

_ Neal never intended for his life as an FBI 'criminal informant' to cross paths with his spy one. But, while on a regular case, Peter downloads a copy of the Intersect and suddenly; they collide._

This takes place after the Chuck series finale and during Season 4 of White Collar. For White Collar, this story takes place after "Parting Shots" but without Ellen's death (Sam stopped contacting her).

The timelines of neither stories should be affected as Bryce's death in season 2 takes place while Neal was supposed to be incarcerated (the 'hows' and 'whys' will be explained in the story, I hope).

I think I've explained everything I need to (reviews and questions welcome!)...on with the story!

* * *

Prologue

* * *

A two story house with a white picket fence. Inside, a man lived with his wife. A completely normal-appearing life, for a not-so-normal couple.

Chuck Bartowski sighed happily as he rubbed his wife's bulging belly.

"Hi baby," he said in a giddy voice, "I'm Chuck, your daddy."

His wife, Sarah Bartowski, let out a squeal as he tickled a sensitive spot. It had taken a while for everything to return to normal after Quinn tried to split them up in his quest for a faultless Intersect. They had both been working with the CIA while trying to revive Carmichael Industries; and trying for a baby at the same time.

Their friends; the ones that knew about the spy stuff, thought that they were taking on too much. Chuck would tell them that they were in no hurry to get Carmichael Industries off the ground; they still turned a profit from the Buy More, and they were intent on doing it right this time. Which meant that they had to learn more about the business side of the freelance spy industry as well as make contacts.

"I can't wait to teach this little guy how to fire his first gun," Sarah cooed. Chuck playfully glared at her and she smiled back. They had already talked about this. Sarah would be teaching the kid to shoot but they would only get to use traq guns for protection. She didn't want their child killing people any more than Chuck did.

The doorbell rang and Chuck jumped up to answer it before Sarah could.

"Stay there," he reminded her, "it's probably Morgan with more baby stuff."

"I'm not completely invalid!" Sarah bellowed as he walked out of the lounge and towards the front door. "And you're not to accept any more costumes! I don't care what Morgan thinks, you're not taking a newborn to comic-con!"

Chuck chucked as he opened the door. It took a moment for him to register the person standing there and then another moment for him to react as the Intersect; the computer in his head, flashed the information through his brain and confirm the identity of the person standing there.

"Bryce?"

Bryce's limp raven hair lay flat and his blue eyes were stark against his black clothing. Despite how pale he seemed, he was still looking good for a dead guy.

"Hey Chuck. Can I come in?"

* * *

Chapter 1

* * *

Neal Caffrey. To the world, he was a master forger, thief and conman. Behind the scenes, he was actually a non-active CIA agent who passed FBI information to the CIA. His was a special case as he only reported to General Beckman herself; the head of both the CIA and the NSA. She was the only person; aside from select medical agents who weren't told of his identity, to know that he was still alive.

But, he tried not to think about that. He was Neal Caffrey and had put Bryce Larkin behind him years ago. Until now.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Neal said, looking away from the startlingly white room and at Special Agent Peter Burke of the FBI.

Peter looked at him suspiciously. It wasn't the 'what have you done now?' look but the 'are you okay?' look he was receiving. Neal thought he should have been grateful that Peter didn't think he was connected to this in any way but, he didn't want him knowing that he had been thrown off by the presence of a mere white room.

"I asked if you had any idea what he might have been doing with this." Peter motioned at the room, specifically at the old-looking computer terminal in the centre.

"No idea," Neal responded with a nonchalant shrug. "I do forgeries, not computers." At least, as far as the FBI was concerned.

Peter didn't look convinced.

"Since we caught Micah with the stolen painting, want to go get a coffee?" Neal asked, pointing his black fedora hat towards the exit of Micah's apartment. "Something good and not the office mud."

Peter was still staring. It was a few nerve-raking moments before he sighed.

"Go see if Diana and Jones are finished here," he said, "I'll join you outside."

Neal hesitated. It was a tell.

"Go," Peter ordered with a wave of his hand.

Neal moved towards the door rather reluctantly and Peter watched him every step of the way. Outside, Neal would curse himself for giving away such obvious tells but, he couldn't help it. He knew what that computer terminal was but he couldn't give away sensitive information to the FBI. And it went against every fibre of his being, leaving Peter alone with it.

Meanwhile, Peter was now staring at the computer terminal. He walked into the room and wondered just what it was about this room that seemed to throw Neal off. Neal wasn't technophobic but he had been reluctant to leave Peter here. That meant that it was possibly dangerous and he didn't want Peter investigating it.

The terminal was an old-looking computer and the screen was completely black, except for white words in the centre: 'Begin Program Y/N'.

Peter pressed the Y-key.

* * *

Peter was taking too long. With every minute that passed, Neal was getting more and more restless. He twirled his hat in his hands, trying to erase the memory of that room and all rooms like it from his head.

"Okay, we're done here," Jones announced and Neal breathed a sigh of relief. "I wouldn't be too quick to head home, the paperwork still needs to be done."

"Reports to be filed and then back to good-old mortgage fraud," Diana joked with a smile.

Neal let out a playful groan. However, compared to potential Intersect computers, Neal would take mortgage fraud any day.

"I'll get Peter then," he said, walking back into the apartment building. He didn't find Peter on the way there, or in the living area of Micah's apartment.

"Peter?" he called out, swallowing against his fear. He had see the reports of what happened to people who downloaded an Intersect without having the ability to absorb vast amounts of visual information. Right now, he wished he hadn't.

The door to the possible Intersect room was open and Peter was lying on the ground, unconscious.

"Peter!" Please let him be unconscious, Neal prayed as he bolted to his partner's side. He placed his hand on his neck and sighed with relief as he felt a pulse. "Peter!"

Peter came back slowly, holding his head like it was in pain.

"Neal? What happened?"

When Peter looked towards him, Neal froze. But the only recognition in Peter's eyes was that of his partner. Neal was glad that he had changed enough that this Intersect couldn't identify him.

"Neal?" Peter questioned again and Neal distantly wondered just what his expression told. His mask had slipped and he was too shaken to fix it.

Peter had an Intersect. An Intersect. Neal knew that this couldn't end well. He wouldn't be able to protect Peter the way he had protected Chuck.

"I, I found you unconscious on the floor," he said, taking a calming breath. "You scared me."

Peter gave him a slap on the back as he stood up.

"I'm fine. Cowboy up, Neal," he responded, cheerily, "and don't tell El about this."

Neal shook his head and proceeded to tease Peter about his wife.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

It didn't take the CIA long to turn up on their doorstep. Strangely enough, they did things professionally for once. The CIA sent an agent to the FBI offices to request a transfer of Peter Burke to the CIA. Whenever Neal brought it up with General Beckman, she just told him to watch the agent.

The agent conducted a few tests which proved the presence of an Intersect in Peter's head.

"Amazing. You're one of two people who can control this," the agent praised, "it would be a great help if you came and worked with us."

Neal felt sick when he heard that. Even though the FBI protested towards the CIA taking one of their agents, they had to admit that the FBI didn't have the resources to help Peter with whatever was in his head.

Elizabeth was hesitant about it but, with Peter suddenly spouting information about people they didn't know, she didn't have much choice.

"It'll be fine," she insisted to Neal when he tried to convince her to tell Peter to stay, "he'll get the training and come back. We'll be fine."

No, Neal wanted to say, no, we won't.

He knew that it was against orders. But, he didn't want Peter to go. He tried to convince everyone that Peter would be better off staying.

Even so, the agent managed to convince everyone that Peter should go for the training, everyone; that is, except Neal.

"I'll be back soon," Peter said as he left, placing a hand on Neal's shoulder. "Be good."

Neal couldn't look his friend in the eye. He knew and he didn't do anything about it. Peter was going to vanish into a CIA holding facility, never to be seen again.

Peter promised to write, to contact them whenever he could but Neal couldn't bring himself to believe that.

* * *

A week passed, then two with no word from Peter. It was when Neal overhead Reese Hughes on the phone and yelling at someone about how he wanted to speak with Peter Burke that he realised he had to do something. Everyone's morale seemed to be on the decline and he had been spending his nights over at the Burke's to keep El calm.

He made a few calls, cut the anklet and was gone with no one the wiser.

* * *

Peter paced his small cell like a caged animal. He cursed the CIA over and over again for keeping him like this. They had locked him up and he only saw other people when they wanted him to look at something.

The 'flashes' of information had begun to make his head hurt and, despite the information pouring into his head with each visit, he didn't know anything.

No one would tell him how El was doing or how the office was. They wouldn't let him have any contact with the outside world.

When he had tried to escape, they had shot him like a common criminal. It was only a sleeping dart but it still pissed him off.

It didn't take him long to see what was going on. He was a prisoner, a tool in the CIA's belt, used until the world forgot about him and then probably dumped somewhere.

When he got out, Peter would owe Mozzie a big apology. The little guy was right about some conspiracies and he vowed to listen to them more often.

"Damn it!" he yelled as his next meal was pushed under his door. He didn't know whether it was breakfast, lunch or dinner since there were no clocks and he could see the sky. He didn't even know how many days had passed. "You can't do this!" He banged his hands against the door.

There was a loud clang from the other side and the door slid open.

Peter stood back, mouth agape. This was something new. The person who he assumed was delivering his meal lay on the ground; unconscious. Standing over him was a man dressed head-to-toe in black, his face covered by a black ski mask like a common crook.

"Do you want out?" the strange man asked. His voice was deep and he was obviously speaking low so not to give away his identity. His eyes were light, a light blue that might as well be colourless, and Peter couldn't help but trust them. He looked at the man on the ground and realised that this could be a trap. He could get punished or be led somewhere worse.

In the end, it was thoughts about El that made him nod. She was alone and probably had no idea where he was or if he was okay.

The man seemed pleased by his response, standing tall and motioning for Peter to follow.

The corridors all looked the same. They were metallic and uniformed and made Peter think of secret bases.

When they reached an elevator, his rescuer pulled a gun.

"It's a tranq gun," he explained, seeing Peter's disapproving look. Peter didn't know why, but he didn't like the sight of the gun in this man's hands. Maybe, he didn't want his rescuer to be a murderer or terrorist.

He didn't respond to this man yet. He just wanted to see how this would play out.

The man gave a nod, as if this was expected.

"Stay behind me," he said in his gruff voice, stepping in front of Peter.

It felt strange to be the one protected rather than the one protecting. Peter just swallowed back any discomfort and steeled himself.

The doors opened and they walked out into another hall. This was a little different as it lacked the cold metallic doors of Peter's prison. The wallpaper was in warm browns and oranges and the doors were carved wood. There were potted plants for decoration.

Peter followed his rescuer down the hall and out into a lobby. Peter marvelled at the darkness outside the window.

It was night time, he realised with shock. It had been so long since he had been able to orient himself with time that he almost froze right there.

"Can't stop now," his rescuer warned him. There was a tug at his sleeve and they broke into a run. The man rammed the butt of the gun into the glass doors, shattering them.

The resulting alarm rang loud and blaringly. Lights began flashing and terror filled Peter. He didn't think he had ever been this afraid before. Not when he had been kidnapped nor when he had been helping Neal open the Nazi sub. It was a different fear to the one which overtook him when El had been taken but no less jarring.

His heart thudded and vibrated in his chest, his whole body trembling in sync. At any moment they could be caught. Adrenaline rushed through his system; making everything louder and brighter.

"Move, move, move, move, move!" His rescuer repeated under his breath. Peter didn't know whether they were saying for their own benefit or his.

They pushed past a line of trees and through an open gate. A black van waited on the side of the street. Peter was practically shoved inside it, the van moving as his rescuer hopped in. The doors slammed shut as they turned a corner.

* * *

"Peter Burke?" a sharp, female voice asked.

His voice failed when he tried to speak, so he nodded. His heart was still hammering and he didn't have the energy to pull himself up off the floor of the van.

"Come on," his rescuer said in a soft voice. Hands pulled him up onto a chair.

Peter finally focused on his surroundings. Sitting before him was a short woman decked out in an olive-coloured military uniform complete with medals sitting before him. Her hair was done up in a tight bun and her eyes were narrow and serious.

"I am General Beckman of the CIA and NSA," she said as his rescuer moved to stand by her side.

"Peter Burke," Peter said, reintroduced himself. He felt a little depressed that he couldn't say 'Special Agent' or 'FBI' as easily as he used to. He didn't even know what had happened in his absence or if his position back at the FBI was even still his.

"Peter," the General repeated with a bit of a sigh. "What you have in your head is called an Intersect and it was developed in a joint project between the CIA and NSA."

"I know all this," Peter said, "I'm supposed to be one of only two people with an Intersect; the other being a CIA Agent called Charles Carmichael."

"His real name is Chuck Bartowski," the General explained, "and you're going to meet him."

"You're not coming?"

"I'm going to be working to keep the CIA from taking you back," she said, "at least until this mess is sorted out. Agent Larkin here will assist you."

"Agent Larkin?" Peter noticed that the man in question flinched.

"Agent Bryce Larkin of the CIA," the General clarified, "he's been quite involved in the Intersect project and will be escorting you to see Team Bartowski."

"Team Bartowski?" Peter questioned.

"They are the main response team concerning anything related to the Intersect. Agent Larkin will answer any other questions you have."

'Agent Larkin' cleared his throat and the General turned in her chair to glare at him.

"Larkin, you requested this, did you not?" The man nodded. "And as such, I will refer to you in the manner which I always have."

The man beneath the ski-mask; Agent Larkin, sighed.

* * *

**Author's notes: **Thanks to all the people who reviewed on the first chapter!

_ I don't mention it often but, I really do love reviews! _:)_ They brighten my day!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

* * *

When the van jolted to a stop, Peter was the only one who stumbled. Somehow, both the Agent and the General remained still.

The Agent opened the van door and hopped out, motioning for Peter to follow. It took a moment for Peter to decide. After all, the agent was CIA and he didn't have the highest opinion of them right now. He had to remind himself that this man was the one who got him out of the holding facility and that he could give him a little benefit from doubt.

They were standing in the middle of a suburban street.

"What?" Peter questioned, looking around. It appeared it wasn't as late as he thought as most of the houses still had lights on.

"Yeah," Agent Larkin agreed, "man, Chuck really did it."

Before Peter could question what he meant, the agent reached up and rolled the mask up his neck and then pulled it off his face. Peter's stomach dropped as the Agent's face was revealed.

He would know those baby blue eyes and that wavy dark hair anywhere; even if it was flat against his head after being confined under the mask.

"Neal?"

The person in question gave a small smile before his face returned to the passive, serious expression he had probably been holding the whole time.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked; picking the question that would hopefully give him some damn answers. He was too tired and relieved to be out of that room to be angry at Neal.

Neal sighed and started walking up to the house before them.

"Saving you," he responded.

Peter didn't feel saved. He felt like he was on the run and wondered how long it would take the CIA to come after them.

He should have known that Neal would choose to answer the question without really answering the question.

"Okay," he sighed, "the General said that Bryce is a CIA agent, is Bryce an alias of yours?"

"Something like that," Neal responded.

"Is he really a CIA agent, or are you doing something stupid?"

"Both," Neal responded and he knocked on the door.

Peter sensed tension in Neal's shoulders and wondered what was going on. He knew better than to ask questions now that Neal had knocked and he would have to follow Neal's lead.

He was confused but doing his best to hide it. Questions floated through his brain and he focused on them for a moment before compartmentalising them away into the back of his mind;

_ Was Neal really a spy called Bryce Larkin? If so, then who was Neal Caffrey? Just an alias? Why did he go to prison?_

The questions made his stomach churn.

_ Did Neal really commit the crimes he was accused and convicted of or was it a CIA cover-up? Did Peter put an innocent man, one just doing his job, in jail?_

Peter didn't snap out of it until he heard Neal speak; "hey Chuck. Can I come in?"

* * *

Their gazes were piercing. Peter shifted uncomfortably and wondered if they were in the right place. The blond pregnant woman was practically glaring at Neal. The man; Chuck, didn't even look at Neal.

They both called him 'Bryce'. Surely, a man who resembled one of those computers fix-it guys and his pregnant wife wouldn't have anything to do with the CIA?

"Do I have to speak first?" Neal asked, his voice lacking the animation it possessed in the office. This was what Neal really sounded like when he was serious. "Fine. I was revived. Again. Beckman thought it would be a waste to let me die and she needed someone to test their attempt at recreating Fulcrum tech. She's also the one who gave me your address."

"And this is your partner?" the blond questioned. Peter was thankful that she didn't glare at him. But, she didn't smile either.

"Something like that," Neal mumbled. Louder he said, "this is Special Agent Peter Burke of the FBI."

She looked confused. The man lit up.

"Cool!" he proclaimed, "I'm Chuck Bartowski and this is my wife, Sarah. How do you know, Bryce?"

It was almost like he was meeting the parents; Peter chuckled at the absurd thought.

"I arrested him," he responded, "you ever hear of 'Neal Caffrey'?"

"No-" Chuck started before his wife interrupted.

"Neal Caffrey was a conman," she responded, "and the FBI arrested him years ago. What does a convicted criminal have to do with this?"

"That's the simple explanation," Peter said. He was interested to see that Neal slouched slightly as she spoke.

"I'm not interested in the exploits of conmen," she responded, "they lie, cheat and play with people's feelings."

"Her father's a conman," Chuck explained apologetically.

"I-uh, I did not know that," Neal responded awkwardly, "let's just get back to what brings Peter and me here."

"But I haven't finished my story," Peter said in an innocent manner. Really, he wasn't going to let Neal get away with hiding part of himself from these people. If they were going to help them, then they needed to know.

It didn't seem to matter though, because Chuck put the pieces together. Or guessed.

"You're Neal Caffrey," he said in an awed voice, finally looking at Neal.

Neal nodded.

"I seriously had no idea your father was a conman," he said to Sarah. It sounded like an apology without the actual words of apology.

"Why are you here, Bryce?" she asked, completely ignoring his previous statement.

Neal adjusted his seated position and decided to let the subject drop.

"Peter downloaded a version of the Intersect, I need to know if you have a way to remove it."

"What?" Sarah questioned.

"It can be removed?" Peter said. He hadn't even known there was a way to remove it.

Chuck was silent as he looked Peter up and down. Then, he stood up.

"Back in a moment," he said, walking out of the room.

There was silence for a moment before Sarah turned back to Neal.

"How did this happen?" she questioned, her voice rising a few octaves in surprise and horror.

Neal looked at Peter and he took his cue to explain; about the case against Patrick Micah and the strange computer terminal that he touched.

"Usually Neal's the one who touches things when we cuff a suspect but, he didn't even go near the computer," Peter explained, wincing a little against the lights in the dining room. "I wanted to know what he was avoiding."

Sarah glared at Neal.

"Hey, I didn't know for certain it was an Intersect," he tried to defend himself.

"You shouldn't have left him alone with it," she scolded, "I thought you of all people would know better."

"I was undercover," Neal responded in a tight voice, "and I couldn't exactly voice my concerns."

Chuck walked back in that moment, slightly elevating the tension between Neal and Sarah.

"Maybe you should go to bed," he suggested to Sarah, rubbing her arms to sooth her.

"Chuck," she said his name like a light scolding.

"Remember what the doctor said about stress?" Chuck responded, "and Bryce'll still be here in the morning." Chuck glared up at Neal, silently conveying that he better be here. "It'll take a few days to modify the program to remove the Intersect from your friend's head."

Peter smiled at the thought of having it removed. He was slightly dazed and almost missed the watch Chuck tossed him. He caught it, almost dropping off the side of the seat to do so.

"GPS watch?" he questioned. It was a nice watch but he didn't put it on. The idea of anyone in the CIA being able to know where he was chilled him.

"It's a Governor," Chuck said. At the blank looks Neal and Peter gave him, he explained, "it helps with the headaches and stuff the Intersect causes."

"I didn't know about that," Neal said, looking at the watch with a frown.

"I think Orion figured it out after you died," Chuck said sadly.

Peter put the watch on, not really expecting anything. But;

"Whoa," he breathed as the vice-grip on his head lifted. He was more aware of a weight in his brain, the feeling like he was wearing a hat inside his head, but it wasn't hurting or squeezing.

"Feels better, doesn't it?" Chuck commented with a chuckle. He motioned towards the watch on his wrist, which was almost exactly like the one on Peter's wrist.

"I think I'll be happier if I could just get rid of it," Peter responded jokingly. It wasn't really a joke. Now that he knew it was possible, he wanted this thing out of his head.

"Yeah," Chuck responded. He was smiling and looking between them. "Bedrooms are upstairs; don't enter the one with the flowers painted on the door because that's going to be the baby's room."

* * *

**Author's notes: **I forgot to mention it in the previous chapter, but with school about to start over here in Australia; updates for this story will not be regular or as quick as my previous story._ I'm going to try but my schedule is about to be highly irregular, random and stressful (unless I get that part-time teaching job which I applied for instead of working supply/relief)._

So, yeah, no promises on updates, except that I will not go longer than a week or so without updating.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

* * *

It was a four-bedroom house. Sarah was sleeping in the master bedroom. As Chuck as said, the bedroom with the flowers painted on the door was filled with half-unpacked baby stuff. Peter was sleeping in one of the spare rooms; after telling Neal that they would be talking in the morning.

Neal couldn't sleep. Had he done the right thing? Going after Peter meant reviving Bryce Larkin; as there was always a chance the wrong people could find out he was alive. He could end up putting his friends back in New York in even more danger.

He thought back to the complex they had Peter locked in. His partner had been locked in that place for days; Neal had seen how jarring just being in the outer offices had been for him.

Neal's hand clenched around the fridge door. Peter was safe. He was out. All they had to do was wait for Chuck to develop the program to get the Intersect out and then return home.

"Midnight snack?" Chuck's voice jolted him out of his thoughts. Neal jumped and turned to face him as the kitchen light came on.

"I was just seeing if you had any drinks," he said. Wine or beer; it didn't matter right now, only that he got some alcohol in his system. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to sleep. Not with all the worries floating around his head.

"What aren't you telling us, Bryce?" Chuck asked, acting just as suspicious as Peter on a bad day. For a moment, Neal flashed back to the day Chuck left Stanford when he passive-aggressively confronted him about his role in getting him kicked out.

"A lot," he responded with a sigh. It couldn't hurt to apologise. "Look, I'm sorry about this."

"This?"

"Appearing on your doorstep with another Intersect."

Chuck snorted a laugh.

"You should be apologising for letting us think you're dead," he responded, "or that it takes an Intersect for you to even bother appearing in my life."

"The General didn't want anyone to know that Bryce Larkin was alive; including you guys. It was hard enough to convince her that I had a safe alias I could use."

"How come?"

Neal smiled.

"Neal was in prison when everything involving the Intersect went down."

* * *

Peter woke feeling better than he had in ages. The slight disorientation from waking up in a bed that obviously wasn't his, without the warm presence of his wife, kept the memories at bay for a moment.

Neal! The realisation hit him and the air hissed out of his lungs. He threw himself out of the bed and sought his friend.

Neal was sitting at the dining room table, munching away on a bit of toast with the paper in one hand and a coffee before him.

"Neal," Peter grumbled, pointing a finger at the content looking man. "You're going to tell me what's going on, now."

Neal blinked and smiled; just like he had the morning after he got out of prison on anklet.

"Breakfast?" he suggested, as if it was obvious, "and then we'll head to the secret spy base."

"I'm not setting foot in any spy base until you explain what you're doing here," Peter countered, "and why you broke me out of a CIA facility and the whole 'Agent Larkin' thing."

Neal froze for a moment. His smile didn't drop but the light faded from his eyes a little.

"Can't we eat first?" he said.

Peter considered that. His stomach was aching for food and something smelled good. But, if he put off getting answers; he might never get them. And wasn't it weird to be eating a regular breakfast when the CIA might be after them?

Sarah chose that moment to walk in, carrying a plate of stacked toast and a glass of orange juice. The pang in Peter's belly made the decision for him.

He gathered his own breakfast and sat down.

"If you want, I could tell you about Bryce Larkin," Sarah said. Peter didn't know what to make of that. This woman seemed to still be in some kind of silent glaring match with Neal. Every time she looked at him, her eyes narrowed and her mouth turned to a slight frown.

"He's a CIA agent," Peter said, "and is apparently sitting across from me."

"That's all?" Neal questioned, his brow furrowing in thought.

"What do you mean, 'that's all'?" Peter asked.

"That is strange," Sarah pointed out. Upon seeing Peter's frown at being left out, she explained, "you should have flashed on Bryce. Chuck did."

"'Flashed'?" All these new terms were giving Peter a headache, despite his fancy new watch.

Neal put the paper and his coffee aside and lent across the table.

"That's what Chuck calls it when the Intersect gives him information," he explained, "Peter, would you mind looking at me for a moment?"

Peter did more than just look. He glared. Interestingly enough, Neal was dressed a little less impeccably than he was back in New York. His hair was loose and parted at the side, instead of pulled back. He was wearing a black jacket and plain grey shirt which were more casual than his expensive suits.

However, when Peter's gaze focused on Neal's face; he felt the disconnection between mind and body that accompanied a 'flash'.

_ Bryce Larkin... CIA... Deceased... Shot dead by Major John Casey; NSA, after destroying the Intersect and sending to unidentified individual... Agent in Charge of Intersect 2.0 project... Shot by Ring Agent and bled to death minutes later..._

"Ow," Peter groaned as Neal backed away and the influx of information halted. It was a case of 'ask and ye shall receive'. Peter now knew about Bryce Larkin. Or the information on Bryce Larkin that was contained in the Intersect computer.

"'Ow'?" When had Chuck walked in? "Is the Governor watch not working correctly?"

Peter waved off the other's concerns and glared at Neal.

"It was just a lot to take in, that's all."

Neal looked a little shy, retreating into himself as they spoke.

"Faster than looking at files though," Neal quipped when he spotted Peter's concerned gaze.

* * *

Chuck offered to drive them all to his work; the place where the 'spy base' was. Peter accepted, as long as Neal came with them. Neal looked like he was about to refuse but, when Peter stated his condition, agreed.

Peter wondered if Neal didn't trust these people alone with him or if there was something else going on here, something that wasn't included in the Intersect files.

When Chuck parked the car, Peter felt a sudden burst of disbelief. This had to be a joke.

"A Buy More?" he questioned.

"Uh huh," Neal confirmed, "Chuck works in the Nerd Herd."

"I actually own the place," Chuck informed him, making Peter feel marginally better about this. "It's a secret though, so I keep up my work in the Nerd Herd to keep people from getting suspicious."

"You work there because you like fiddling with computers," Neal countered in a good-natured manner.

"No," Chuck responded quickly.

"Yes," Neal said.

"Are you going inside?" Peter questioned as they stood side-by-side and blocked the doorway, although he was smiling too. Being around these two when they were like this made him momentarily forget about the danger he was in.

The Buy More certainly didn't give off an aura of a secret spy base and it was a far cry from wherever it was that Peter was being held before.

There were electronics everywhere. The wall of TVs was the only thing to really catch Peter's eye since he didn't really care about electronics outside ones that gave him sports and those he needed to know for his job; although Jones was his go-to guy for technology related cases and evidence.

A giant sign for the 'Nerd Herd' hung above a circular counter towards the middle of the store. Behind it sat two men; one with a very receded hairline and one who Peter could only describe as 'greasy' from his limp dark hair to the way he approached his work.

"Who are your friends, Chuck?" the greasy one asked, moving out from behind the desk.

"Lester," Chuck introduced, "this is Bryce and Peter."

Lester nodded while examining them from top to bottom.

"I'm Lester, as you know; the lead singer of Jeffster!" he said, getting into Peter's personal space.

"We're between gigs at the moment," the other man said in a slow, dull drawl.

"And that's Jeff," Lester said, turning back to glare at the man in question. "Also of Jeffster!"

"That's nice," Peter responded. He glanced at Neal, silently begging the man to help him.

Neal relayed that look to Chuck, who responded quickly but awkwardly.

"Uh, look guys, I'm currently looking after these two so, could you man the desk?"

"Huh?" For a moment it seemed like Lester wasn't going to agree. "Alright, fine." He moved back behind the desk and reclined on the chair with his feet on the table.

Chuck sighed and motioned for Neal and Peter to follow him. They walked into the enclosed Home Entertainment area.

"This is a problem," Lester said in a conspiratorial tone to Jeff.

Jeff nodded slowly. He asked, "what do we do?"

"Call Morgan."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

There's a moment when children dream about having their own secret base. Stepping down that ladder brought every one of those dreams back. Peter had to suppress a childish sound of glee.

The glee vanished when he reached the bottom and found himself in another metallic hallway. He took in a sharp breath and tried not to panic.

"Come on, Peter, move!" Neal called joyfully as he clamoured down the ladder.

"Aren't spies supposed to be quiet?" Peter said the first thing that came to mind and wasn't depressing.

"Hey, it's been a while," Neal responded with all the entitlement Peter had come to expect from his friend, "let me geek out a little." It was then Peter noticed the box in his hands.

Why had Neal climbed down the ladder with a portable game console in his arms?

"When did you pick that up?" Peter questioned sceptically. His question was answered almost immediately when Chuck dropped down the ladder.

"Here," he said, placing some games on top of the box. "You should like these."

Neal's face lit up like a kid at Christmas. Peter's mouth dropped slightly open at the image of Neal Caffrey; confidence man with an encyclopaedic knowledge of art and artists, smiling with glee over video games. It was jarring and strange.

Before he could ask, Neal explained;

"You and Chuck might take a while. I thought I should get something to 'amuse' myself."

"But," he paused for a moment. This was absurd. "Games?"

"Problem?" Neal questioned with a raised eyebrow. The expression quashed any rebuff Peter could think of. He didn't even ask Neal how he was paying for the console and games. But, right now, he followed Chuck though the hallway and into another room.

"This is the Conference Room," Chuck explained as he pulled up a seat at the desk in the middle of room.

Peter wandered around in a daze. This place looked like a high-tech version of the conference room back at the FBI. It was a little smaller, the desk didn't seat as many people, but the computers and screens and the technology was all way out of the FBI pay-range. To make it sting even more, Chuck pulled out another high-quality looking laptop and began typing on it.

"What do you even need this space for?" Peter questioned in awe.

"Basically, we receive and plan missions here," Chuck explained as he typed, "there are holding cells down the hall and a few training rooms. There's an armoury and a place where we store information, gadgets and evidence. All pretty standard."

"You forgot the interrogation rooms," Neal pointed out as he fiddled with the stuff in his box. The handheld console was black and his gaze never left it.

Chuck turned to Peter and noticed way his face paled.

"Well, yeah. We have those. But, we don't use them." He left out that Casey preferred to 'interrogate' while in the field, not bring them back here where Chuck would watch over his shoulder with his soft heart. "They came standard with the place after we bought it from the CIA."

Neal nodded as if this was fascinating, not that he looked up. He had plugged his console in; there were power points hidden in the build of the table, and was staring at the lit-up screen.

Peter took another look around before sitting down. All this; under a Buy More.

"Mozzie would throw a fit if he knew about this," he commented.

Neal made a noise of agreement, not really paying attention. Peter looked to Chuck, hoping the other man would know if this was normal.

Chuck gave him a small apologetic smile.

"I should have waited before giving him that," he commented to Peter. Turning to Neal, he said, "you know you're supposed to charge that before playing."

Neal tugged at the cord.

"It's plugged in and charging."

Chuck sighed and shrugged at Peter.

"Sorry," he said, "Bryce used to do this all the time back at Stanford. He's listening to us so-" Chuck trailed off as Peter stood up and yanked the device from Neal's hands.

"Hey!"

"Pay attention," Peter scolded, passing the device to Chuck.

"I was!" Neal insisted.

* * *

_"You know, you didn't ruin my life," Chuck had said that first night when they re-bonded over midnight snacks._

It was strange. Neal had thought that he would have been able to press 'Neal Caffrey' to the back of his mind and switch back to being 'Bryce Larkin: super spy'. But, after years of being Neal on an anklet, he found that it wasn't that easy.

Neal had a lot of personality traits that Bryce originally possessed; the banter between him and those he considered friends, the need to be a little different; a little more exciting; to have fun, combined with the intelligence to pull off whatever crazy stunt came to mind. Having Chuck despise him had dulled most of that but, years of being Neal Caffrey and Chuck's verbal acknowledgement of forgiveness were making it harder to act like the spy he was.

At least Chuck hadn't commented on it yet. Peter kept giving him strange looks though.

Neal had only been looking to escape to the game world for a few hours and Chuck had practically thrown the games at him.

"Stop glaring at me, Neal," Peter said as he flipped through the information Chuck had passed him. It was basic stuff on the history of the Intersect, most of the which Peter hadn't been told.

"You're getting rid of it," Neal pointed out, "why do you need to know all this stuff?"

"You stole it, didn't you?"

"Huh?" Neal hadn't stolen anything recently. Unless, was Peter referring to his new game console and games? "Chuck offered them to me, not the same as stealing!"

Apparently not, judging by the confused look Peter shot him.

"The Intersect. You stole it and sent it to Chuck."

"Yeah," Neal admitted, now even more confused. "But, the CIA already knows why I did that and it's not under FBI jurisdiction."

"It is a part of your past though," Peter said, "and I'm the resident expert on all things 'Neal Caffrey'."

Neal didn't know how to respond to that.

"Besides, I want to know more about Bryce Larkin," Peter continued, "especially since he infiltrated my offices."

Neal could have slapped himself. Peter was not an idiot. It wasn't even difficult to figure out what it means when a CIA agent pops up on your payroll; figuratively speaking.

"The CIA happened to need someone in the FBI," Neal responded, "Neal Caffrey was in a good position to get there."

"He; You were in prison," Peter said, "unless they recruited you later?"

"Earlier," Neal said, "I was at Stanford."

Peter made a mental note of that; check for a 'Bryce Larkin' enrolled at Stanford.

"Adler was my first solo mission," Neal informed him, "and I almost messed it up."

"You told me that you were doing a long con against Adler."

Neal shrugged. His hand nonchalantly reached for the game console.

"I was. Mozzie got me in, the least I could do was run his con while spying on Adler."

"And without Mozzie?" Peter had rolled up some of the paper, which he used to bat Neal's hand away from the console.

"My original plan was to get close to him using the bonds you caught me on. Mozzie's plan was better."

"Of course it was," Peter sighed as Neal rubbed his hand with a hurt look.

"So, who's Mozzie?" Chuck questioned as he worked on his laptop. He was trying to see if the removal program they currently had would work on Peter's Intersect and what adjustments might need to be made.

"Neal's diminutive criminal friend," Peter responded.

"Peter!" Neal scolded.

"Okay, Neal's diminutive, quote and conspiracy obsessed, either crazy or a genius, friend who lives his life 'off the grid'."

* * *

**Author's notes: **Thought I should mention, since Neal is Bryce's current identity; he'll be referred to as Neal in text outside of speech.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

When Chuck finished checking the program, he talked Peter through the tests he was going to run on him. They needed to see if they could gauge the origin of his Intersect, maybe figure out what kind he had. Chuck had his theories that it wasn't a complete Intersect. Nor was it a copy of the Intersect 2.0 since Peter didn't display any sudden 'flashes' of spy skills.

Despite his certainty, they were still going to put Peter through his paces. Physical trials, image retention tests, and the gun range were all planned for the day. Also, Peter needed to make both verbal and written statements about his time locked up in the facility.

"Casey," Peter hummed when Chuck mentioned who would be running the gun range portion.

"Yeah," Chuck said, "I can't do it because I don't use a gun."

Neal almost dropped his game.

"What?" Chuck didn't use a gun? Impossible. "How do you go out into the field without one?"

"Neal, you don't use a gun."

"I don't need to," Neal pointed out, "usually, I have a bunch of FBI agents watching my back." He didn't mention that he preferred to go without a gun during missions that required stealth; as most of his missions as Neal did. Guns were noisy, attention grabbing, made marks jumpy, and were completely unreliable.

"I use a tranq gun," Chuck said, "if I have to have some form of weapon. I don't want to have to shoot anyone."

"Didn't you do a red test?" Neal asked, curious.

Chuck nodded but, "I may have, I guess you could say, 'cheated'. Someone else killed the mark."

Peter's eyes widened and he failed to suppress a choked noise.

"Let's just get these tests over and done with so I can get back to New York," he said, hoping to stop the talk about killing people. The idea of Neal killing someone in cold blood was disturbing.

"Uh, right!" Chuck guided Peter out of the room and Neal lounged back in the chair.

Finally, he could get to work on this game. He intended to beat it in a short time; faster than any possible time-frame Chuck beat it in.

* * *

Morgan was stealth personified. He snuck into Castle; their spy base, and tiptoed down the corridor. He was the night; darkness. A shadow. A culmination of all things silent and sneaky.

Morgan was a spy.

"What are you doing down here?"

Morgan pulled the gun he had grabbed while in the Buy More and twisted; firing at the gut of the man who dared sneak up on him.

The foam bullet harmlessly bounced of Neal's stomach.

Morgan stared up at his taller opponent.

"It seems that my intel is correct," he commented, "the nemesis has returned."

"What?" Neal questioned, confused. He didn't know that Morgan knew about the spy part of Chuck's life.

"Bryce Larkin," Morgan said, poking a finger into Neal's stomach. "What are you doing here? Trying to trick Chuck into being your friend? Because I've got news for you buddy, I'm Chuck's best friend and nothing you do can change that, you traitor."

"I could shoot you," Neal quipped in an even tone.

"Hah! One who resorts to violence could never take my place!" Morgan responded righteously.

For a moment, Neal was reminded of Mozzie. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and mentally cursed. He missed New York when he really shouldn't. Spies don't form attachments to places or people.

Mozzie said that about conman and on the tropical island that they escaped to, Neal had been able to put New York behind him. Why couldn't he do it now?

"What did Chuck tell you?" Neal questioned.

"You're a spy, sent him the computer in his head," Morgan responded in a huff, "but that doesn't make up for what you did to him at Stanford!"

"I agree."

"And, what?" Morgan trailed off as Neal's words sunk in.

"But, it's Chuck's choice to forgive me, not yours. You can't control who your friend is friends with."

Morgan glowered.

"Maybe we could find some way to work this out?" Neal suggested giving Morgan his winning smile.

"Shoot-out at midday." And Morgan would not be persuaded otherwise.

* * *

Elizabeth tried not to think about what Mozzie had told her. The little guy had popped up on her doorstep looking slightly panicked. As soon as she opened the back door, he pushed his way inside and scanned the room for bugs.

Elizabeth was happy to have some company but also worried to see the little man so distraught.

When Peter left; and promptly dropped off the face of the Earth according to Moz, Neal had spent most nights keeping her company during dinner and trying to take her mind of her husband's empty space. It hadn't completely worked, but she was grateful for the effort.

And then, with Peter gone, the Marshals had moved in and placed Neal under house arrest. No more visitors from him to take her mind of Peter.

"And I snuck into the house but, he wasn't there!" Mozzie exclaimed with his voice hysterical.

Elizabeth's heart stopped. What was going on?

"First Peter and now Neal," she whispered, wiping away the tears that invaded her eyes. This wasn't the time to cry. "Has he ever done something like this before?"

Mozzie paused and stared at her.

"Despite appearances, I am not Neal's keeper." Mozzie paused for a moment. "But, 'has he ever done something like this before', I can only say yes."

Elizabeth placed a cup of tea in front of Moz and motioned for him to sit. The twitchy man picked up the cup of tea but did not sit.

"Neal; sometimes vanishes," Mozzie explained, "without a trace. I admit, I've tried searching for him during his 'trips' but have found nothing. A few weeks here a month there, and every time he returns with money and maybe a story of a job he pulled off."

"But, Neal's got a tracking anklet," Elizabeth pointed out, bewildered. Maybe Neal liked to vanish back when Peter was chasing him but, he couldn't do the same thing now.

Although, Peter did theorise that the anklet wasn't what was keeping Neal here. That if he really wanted to, Neal could vanish.

"Did Neal go after Peter?" Elizabeth wondered out loud. Their disappearances were too close together to be a coincidence. "Moz?" The man in question was shuffling nervously.

"I'd like that you keep this between us," Moz said. And then he admitted to something that he wouldn't have, if he didn't believe the situation wasn't dire.

* * *

When Neal was arrested, they already had plans in place to 'ghost' him out of prison. He only served the last four or five months of his sentence; the month after Kate left and the three months waiting for the Suit to get him out.

"But," she had said, "Kate visited him. Every week; Peter said."

The look Mozzie gave her in response was chilling. There were things that not even he knew, questions that he couldn't answer.

That night, Elizabeth had to seriously think about what she would do if Peter didn't come back.

_He might not be coming back._

Lost and alone, she cried herself to sleep.

* * *

**Author's note: **We've been seeing a little more of a relaxed Bryce in Neal during the past few chapters; showing parts of the guy Chuck knew at Stanford. I plan for the spy stuff; as depicted in Chuck, to appear soon.

It's 'four or five months' because Neal didn't pop right back in prison when Kate broke up with him; he had already been back for a few weeks, and because we don't know how long it took Peter to get Neal out after his first four year sentence was up (I'm going to say it took about a week, maybe less).


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

* * *

Peter rubbed his eyes as Chuck brought him a glass of water. He was exhausted after the past few hours. Even so, Chuck had been more lenient on him than the other agents had been. The other agents didn't care if he was tired and they made him finish the work before he could rest.

Chuck let him have breaks and talk about stuff not related to the tests. Peter found out that he had met Neal; Bryce, at Stanford. They had bonded over their love of computers and computer games.

However, Peter felt an urge to slap Neal after hearing about how Bryce had gotten Chuck kicked out of Stanford. Even if he was trying to keep Chuck from the CIA, as Chuck claimed, surely a master conman could have thought of some other way?

"I actually not surprised about the art thief thing," Chuck said as they walked back into the Conference Room, "Bryce always did love art. Had a sketchbook he was almost always writing or drawing in."

There was a moment of silence as they surveyed the empty room.

"Where did he go?" Peter questioned annoyed. It seemed that, even as a spy, Neal Caffrey was Neal Caffrey. And Peter's first instinct was to find him and drag him back here; anklet or no anklet.

Chuck jumped onto one of the computers and brought up the surveillance video.

"Oh, that can't be good," he commented, making Peter's heart race.

"What?" he questioned before turning to the video in question.

Neal was standing in the Buy More, back-to-back with a small man who was possibly three-quarters beard. They were holding colourful toy guns while the rest of the employees crowded around them to watch.

"God damn it, Neal," Peter grumbled. This was worse than him doodling over FBI reports or throwing a rubber band ball into the air.

"I don't see Casey?" Chuck questioned, panic edging in his voice, "we need to get up there before he does."

Peter was about to ask why when he remembered how he knew the name.

"John Casey?" he questioned. The man who shot Bryce. Chuck didn't answer his question as he was already heading down the hall.

* * *

"We know the game! We know the rules!" Lester announced into the mike. He stood on the Nerd Herd desk; his designated spot as the emcee. "On the left," Jeff climbed up and whispered something in Lester's ear. "No, my left," Lester whispered harshly back in response, his voice amplified by the presence of the mike. He started again, "on the left, we have the ruling champ; the quick-draw of quick draws! Morgan!"

The Buy More staff cheered. Most backed Morgan since he was part of their staff.

"On the right," Lester gestured dramatically. "We have the challenger; the man who destroyed Chuck's life and invaded our workspace, Bryce Larkin!" Neal wished people would stop calling him by both first and last names when referring to him.

The cheer for Bryce was more of a short 'rah' than a cheer, the staff only cheering because ceremony required it.

"You're going down, college-boy!" Morgan hissed.

"Bring it on," Neal responded.

"Ten steps!" Lester announced, "at my count! Ten! Nine!"

Morgan and Neal stepped apart, taking one step for every number Lester called. Neal steadied his breath, ready to do this.

"Two! One! Shoot!"

They spun, almost in sync. But, Neal readied the trigger as he spun, releasing his shot faster than Morgan.

"No!" Morgan cried out as he was hit. He dramatically fell back as Neal lent out of the way of Morgan's shot which sailed past his head.

"Hah!" he gloated, dropping the gun to his side. "Better luck next time!"

"Neal!" Peter's voice bellowed over the cheers of the crowd.

In the scattering of employee's that followed, Chuck's sigh of; "Morgan", could easily be heard.

"Chuck!"

"Peter!"

"Do I want to know what's going on here?" Peter asked rhetorically.

Neal placed the gun on the nearest shelf, giving his best innocent look.

Morgan handed his to Chuck, looking apologetic.

"Bryce is bad news," Morgan said, trying to explain his actions, "you shouldn't have let him in here."

Peter glared at Morgan for that comment. Neal's influence could be criminal at times but, he wasn't bad.

Chuck seemed just as ruffled but, wasn't angry with Morgan.

"Bryce and I have come to an understanding," Chuck explained carefully, "and he's only here to get help for his friend." Chuck motioned to Peter.

"He's an FBI agent," Neal informed Morgan in a conspiratorial tone. Peter didn't really get why Neal felt he had to say that and he really didn't like the, quickly hidden, excited look Morgan gave him.

"Neal," Peter repeated in a warning tone. He turned to Chuck. "How much can I tell him?"

"Pretty much everything," Chuck responded, "Morgan is a valued member of my team."

Morgan puffed out his chest at that and shot a superior look at Neal.

"Did you see that?" Neal whispered to Peter.

"No," Peter responded. He had but, didn't even understand why Neal was letting this guy get to him. "Get over it, Neal, this isn't preschool."

"But-"

"Uh, guys?" Chuck interrupted, edging closer to them nervously. He held his hands out in a guiding manner and started moving them back towards the employee's only back area. "The man in the Yankees' cap, just entered, over by Customer Service."

Neal glanced over and could see him. If Chuck was pointing him out, then he had to be an enemy spy. Neal watched Peter for his reaction when he spotted him. Just as he expected, Peter's eyelids fluttered for a moment as the Intersect flashed.

"Okay, he was CIA but vanished years ago," Peter explained.

"He was part of Fulcrum and the Ring. He dropped off the grid when we got access to a list of Fulcrum agents," Chuck added as they pushed through the doors into the back area.

It looked like a cross between a warehouse and a parts shop. There was as large cage where computer parts and computers were stored for repairs and an exit just beyond that.

Neal pulled the gun he borrowed in 'Castle' from where he had placed it in the back waistline of his pants.

"What do we do now?" Peter asked at the same time. He spotted the gun in Neal's hands and froze.

Neal readied the gun to fire the moment the enemy walked through the door.

"Don't worry, I'll aim for a shoulder or a leg," he explained to Peter. He reminded himself that protecting Peter and Chuck came first and he could deal with Peter's reaction later.

Morgan grabbed a metal rod and held it like a baseball bat.

"You shoot him, and I'll knock him out."

"No way," Chuck said, grabbing Morgan's arm. He dragged his friend towards the exit, pulling Peter along with them.

"I'll cover your escape," Neal said as he slowly followed them towards the exit. He looked back for confirmation and Chuck nodded.

* * *

**Author's note: **Look, a sort of bonus chapter! Also, went back and made some minor changes to the two chapters before this one.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

* * *

The rogue spy barged through the door and pulled out his own gun. Unfortunately for him, he needed time to adjust to the change in surroundings while Neal was ready to take a shot.

The first bullet lodged in his shoulder. He rolled out of the way of the second, picking up his dropped gun in his other hand as he moved.

Neal backed up as a shot hit the wall behind him. He cursed and ducked out the back door. He hoped the rogue spy wouldn't be determined enough to go after him while injured while knowing that he probably would be. This wasn't some white collar crook to whom guns were a tool and getting shot was something out-of-ordinary. This was a spy, to who guns and getting shot were facts of life.

"Need some help, Larkin?" Neal froze as he felt the barrel of a gun press against the back of his head.

"Casey," Neal greeted, making his fear with contempt. "I don't need it, but if you're offering?"

"I'm offering a single shot way out of whatever mess your brought here." Great. Not even a minute had passed and Casey was already threatening to shoot him.

The door opened.

"Then shoot!" Neal said, ducking out of the way as the rouge spy dashed out of the exit. The rogue spy was fast and ducked and weaved well but, Casey was better. He brought him down with a single shot to the knee.

"So, what mess have you brought here, Larkin?" Casey asked as he stalked over towards his prize. He banged the rogue spy's head into the ground, knocking him out in a violent move that made Neal wince.

"Another Intersect," Neal responded, "a possibility of some leftover Ring members working together."

"Sounds fun," Casey responded in a light version of his dry tone.

"You got him?" Morgan questioned, popping out from behind a nearby bin.

As Neal confirmed it, Casey hauled the unconscious body up over his shoulder and started walking the body to the holding cells in Castle.

* * *

It hadn't felt right. Running, hiding and leaving Neal to defend himself with only a gun. Peter tried to imagine what would have happened if Casey hadn't appeared. He was certain that Neal could protect himself but, it still didn't feel right.

And the almost hesitant way Neal walked over to him afterwards didn't help.

"Peter?" Neal questioned, sounding unsure. Now that Peter had seen him actively use a gun to shoot someone, he was worried about how he might have changed Neal's image in Peter's eyes. This hadn't been some last ditch attempt to stop a criminal from hurting someone but, a conscious choice right from the start to shoot someone.

"I'm the FBI agent," Peter said, trying to reaffirm himself. It was the first time he had been able to verbally admit it and feel it since Neal had brought him here. "I'm not supposed to run and hide, leaving you to defend me."

"It's not like I'm helpless," Neal responded with a smile. "I am a CIA agent and a world-class conman."

"Doesn't matter," Peter responded, "next time, we work together. I don't want you going off into another dangerous situation without someone watching your back; and I'd rather that someone was me. CIA, FBI, we're all on the same team."

Neal shook his head and smiled a fond smile. It was kind of an idealistic view Peter had; Neal wouldn't had to infiltrate FBI offices if they were all on the same team, but it was one of things that made him trust Peter.

"Alright," he agreed, "let's get back down to Castle."

At the mention of the spy base, a thought occurred to Peter.

"You wouldn't happen to have a place like that under June's house, would you?"

"I wish!" Neal responded heartily, "but since random room searches are a possibility, I can't keep any spy stuff at June's."

"You have spy stuff?" Peter questioned, stopping in his tracks. He wondered if he could convince Neal to share.

"I don't have an itching spray," Neal responded, referring to the itching spray the FBI once used on a suspect's clothes during a sting. "And the Russian surplus gadgets Mozzie gets are better but, don't tell the General that."

"So, you don't?" Peter didn't believe that for a second.

"I replaced one of June's mirrors with a combined mirror/screen which allows me to contact and be contacted by General Beckman but that's it." This was a depressing subject now that he saw how well-equipped Team Bartowski was. He knew it was the skills and not the gadgets which made a spy but, he was still slightly jealous.

Peter put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"We'll get you something fun to play with when we get back to New York," he promised. And then, ruining the mood, he added with a smile, "maybe a fancy new tracking anklet."

Neal shrugged off Peter's hand and raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"It better do something cool; like double as a portable EMP device or something," he said.

Peter didn't even want to image the kind of stunts Neal could pull with something like that.

* * *

Neal paced across the Conference Room floor. General Beckman watched him through the screen, looking dissatisfied.

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Agent Larkin?" she asked.

Neal stopped pacing and looked at her.

"No," he responded, "but I can't keep Peter away from his life. He belongs in New York with his wife and the White Collar team."

"Even rumours of an Intersect will put Agent Burke and everyone he comes in contact with in danger."

"I know," Neal said sadly, "but, rumours die. People stop chasing them. And Peter's able to arrest anyone who does try to get to him."

The General was silent for a moment. Neal was on edge, just waiting for the inevitable moment when she would say 'no' and arrange for Peter to be shipped off somewhere 'safe'.

"We're in the process of purging the facility which was holding Agent Burke," she informed him, "most of them had no idea that the person in charge had another agenda. It seems there were only four major players in this. You've captured one. The head of the facility was another and we've also arrested those who he documented as part of his faction. And the agent who arranged for Agent Burke to be transferred there has been found dead."

"Which only leaves the New York player who arranged for Peter to download the Intersect." Neal believed he knew who this person was. He had been watching this agent for a while, feeding him false information for him to give to whomever he worked for. Sometimes the information found its way to the street which meant that the agent in question was selling FBI information to criminals on the side.

"Think you can remove him without risking your cover?" General Beckman asked.

Neal thought about it for a moment. He had managed this before. Back when he first joined White Collar as a confidential informant and felon on parole, he caught a Ring agent among the White Collar ranks. Agent Lauren Cruz, who transferred in shortly after he joined, hadn't been the most subtle of spies.

He hadn't gotten rid of her right away. Same as he did now, he fed her false information and let her think she was in control while he tried to find out where and who her 'buddies' were. When Kate died and his position had been in jeopardy, Neal couldn't leave a Ring agent unmonitored among Peter's agents so he got rid of her.

But, Agent Mounce would be a little more tricky. He was well-liked among the FBI and had favours he could call in should anything go wrong.

"Peter will help me," Neal said with certainty.

"Take Chuck as well," the General ordered, "he might flash on something you missed."

"Chuck? But," his wife was pregnant and he didn't think she would be up for travelling all the way to New York.

"This should only take a few days," the General said, "and while Mrs. Bartowski is on voluntary leave, he is not."

Neal didn't like this. He didn't want to take Chuck away from his wife during this time. They were supposed to be together and, Peter was right, he was a romantic.

"Is that clear, Agent Larkin?"

"Yes." When the call ended, Neal sighed. Sarah was going to kill him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:** Thought I'd just say; it's not Sarah's reaction Neal should be worried about. It's someone else's which he should watch out for. Which doesn't happen in this chapter, sorry.

* * *

Chapter 9

* * *

Neal was quiet. He still babbled away whenever someone spoke to him but, that was only when someone spoke to him. He didn't start a conversation unless he thought Peter was looking at him worriedly.

"Neal's acting weird," he said to Chuck. The other man was fiddling in his locker in the Buy More staff room, getting ready to leave for the day.

"Bryce? He seems fine to me." Over the course of the day, they both silently realised that neither of them were going to stop calling Bryce/Neal by the name they knew him by. They also accepted that. Neal had already explained that he had chosen his name during his first solo mission because Neal had been his birth name and, while content to be Bryce, he wanted some connection to his past. He didn't expect that he would be living by that name almost a decade later.

Peter glared silently at Chuck for a few moments. He had his hands on his hips, in his FBI pose.

"Alright fine," Chuck said, "I'll see if I can't find out if something's bothering him."

Peter cocked an eyebrow.

"I've got a plan."

* * *

A few games later, Neal excused himself for a moment. As soon as he was out of the room, Chuck turned to Peter.

"Okay, you're right," he said, "something's bothering him."

"What changed your mind?" Peter asked curiously. He didn't see why Chuck would change his mind now.

"He's," Chuck searched for the right phrase, "lacking energy, I guess. And he's losing."

"By one game." Peter didn't know much about video games, except counterfeit ones, but he knew how to keep score.

"Chuck has a point," Sarah said, "Bryce is a competitive person."

"And he hasn't challenged me to a single rematch," Chuck said. Indeed, Chuck had been initiating all the challenges.

"So, what now?" Peter asked. His only response was silence.

"We could ask," Chuck suggested, "'hey, Bryce, what's bothering you?'"

Peter and Sarah gave him synchronised disbelieving looks.

"You really want to know?" Neal asked, appearing in the entranceway. He had been hiding behind the wall, listening to their conversation. Sarah's eye twitched while Peter's mouth dropped opened. _Surely, it couldn't be that easy?_

"Yes," Chuck responded.

"Beckman wants you to come to New York with us," Neal explained to Chuck, pointing to him to and Peter. "She thinks that you might flash on something I missed."

Chuck was silent for a moment, before he turned to Sarah. They shared a moment of silent communication.

"I'll call Mary in the morning," Sarah finally said, "she'll watch over me while you're gone." She knew that Chuck didn't like leaving her alone now that her belly bulged. Before Peter and Neal arrived, getting Chuck to go to work was difficult as he would continuously express desire to stay and wait on her hand-and-foot. Sarah might be feeling maternal and protective of herself and the life inside her; hence why she stopped going on dangerous missions and spent more time at home cooing over items for the baby, but she was still an independent person at heart.

"Then we'll leave when she arrives," Chuck responded with a slight frown.

"I want souvenirs," Sarah informed him before returning to her novel.

Chuck turned back to Neal.

"There, no problem," he said, picking up his controller.

Neal stood there shell-shocked for a moment. He glanced to Peter for confirmation that this was normal. Peter nodded and then commented;

"I should get El something too." General Beckman had explained to him that he shouldn't contact his wife until he was back in New York, going as far as to order him not to contact her and contracting Neal to make sure her order was followed.

"I guess you could get her one of these," Neal said, pointing at the Bartowski's television. It was meant to be a joke but his tone was flat.

At least Peter smiled.

"Not happening," he responded, listing numerous reasons why the television was appropriate for the Burke household.

"You're missing out," Neal said with a shake of his head. He turned to Chuck, picked up his controller and announced, "alright, Chuck, prepare to get creamed!"

* * *

Peter awoke on the couch, a blanket thrown over his body and Neal's voice in the background.

"Damn it, Chuck! Blue shell, really?" Neal hissed in a quiet voice, trying to keep from waking Peter.

"All's fair in love and war," Chuck responded.

Peter squinted against the blur of colours as he got up. There were almost empty bowls of chips and lollies spread across the floor and lines of cups, some knocked over, next to Chuck and Neal. The scent of coffee clung to the air.

"No, no, no, no, no! Oh, come on!" Chuck grumbled as Neal sped back into first place.

Peter checked his watch; the numbers glowing 4:29.

"Have you been playing that all night?" It was the only conclusion Peter could reach. He would have woken up if they left and came back. Not that it was a reasonable hour to be playing video games in the first place. It wasn't a reasonable hour at all.

Neal jumped and hit 'pause', he and Chuck turning to face Peter like naughty children.

"It's an all night games marathon," Neal explained calmly.

"Yeah," Chuck added, shifting nervously.

"What about sleep?" Peter questioned.

"Bryce pointed out that we can sleep on the plane," Chuck said, "and it's not like we'll be working the moment we land."

"I, for one, am not looking forward to sneaking back into June's," Neal said, "and I'll have to call off the marshals keeping me under 'house arrest'."

"You can do that?" If Neal had pull with the marshals, then what was the point of the electronic monitoring anklet?

"I know a few guys," Neal responded with a shrug.

Peter gave him the 'that's not right' glare.

"I only use my powers for good," Neal responded, holding his hands up in the 'no weapons' position. "Never for a con or crime, unless sanctioned by the CIA. Even then, it's no fun unless there's a challenge."

Peter groaned and stood up. He had almost forgotten that Neal was CIA, making him a federal agent.

"I'm going to bed," and maybe he would be able to get a few more hours sleep, "you two should follow my example."

"We're not old, Peter," Neal responded. He obviously wasn't going to listen to this advice.

"Brat."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

* * *

As the plane landed in New York, Peter could swear he still felt the flashing of images which were used to remove the Intersect in his head. Being without the Intersect was still strange; his head felt lighter and he was kind of dazed. Although, he had only got two hours sleep in a proper bed and that might be the reason he was out of it.

Or a result of the excruciating past six hours he had spent on that plane.

At least he was faring better than Neal. Neal, who was carrying a semi-conscious Morgan, looked frazzled. His hair was still parted Bryce-style in the middle, framing his forehead and face, and slightly curled in random directions. It probably didn't help that he was standing lopsided in order to keep Morgan from curling over.

Neal heaved Morgan into the waiting taxi and almost collapsed next to him.

"You know, you didn't have to drug him," Chuck commented, now that the only person who could overhear was the taxi driver. Morgan mumbled in his sleep as leant on Chuck's shoulder.

"Yes, I did," Neal responded. He could still feel the way his blood pressure had spiked when Morgan had slipped into the seat next to his during boarding.

_"Taking Chuck to New York, are we?"_ he had commented, _"where Chuck goes, I go. And I've always wanted to see the Big Apple."_ And then Morgan just wouldn't stop talking.

Neal had only been able to get a bit of shut-eye after drugging the annoyance to sleep. He was just glad that Peter was okay with going to June's first since El would still be at work. He could hear him in the front seat;

"Hey hon, I'm back. Uh, call me when you get this message." Wait. Hadn't Peter dialled two numbers before speaking? Neal shifted out of his seat and leant forward.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I've called her work number and the home number," Peter commented with a worried frown, "no answer." Despite knowing that she could just be in a meeting for busy or something, Peter couldn't help worrying.

"She was fine when I left, although really worried about you," Neal commented. Peter felt a spike in worry as he realised that El could have literally worried herself sick. "Call Yvonne, she should be able to tell you."

"I'm a little worried about how you keep tabs on people who associate with my wife," Peter commented as he dialled the number Neal gave him.

"It's kind of my job," Neal quipped. Peter playfully held up a finger to silence him.

"My wife is not a spy."

"Stalker," Morgan mumbled, waking up for a moment before going back under. Neal glared back at him and Chuck lightly shrugged his shoulders and held out his hands in a 'what can you do?' manner.

"Yvonne? Peter Burke. Have you seen El?" He paused for a moment, frowning as Yvonne responded. "Wait! Wait! Don't cry! I'm sorry. Can you tell me what happened?" Neal shared a look with Chuck that told the other that this was not normal. Except Peter getting flustered around crying women; he couldn't handle it when a woman cried. "What? When did that happen? How did that happen?"

"What is it?" Chuck asked. Neal didn't like the way Peter's hand was lightly trembling.

"El went to check out a location for an event and now she's being held hostage," Peter responded in a hoarse voice after he hung up. "No one knows who the criminal is, just that he locked down the building and is currently conferring with the FBI."

"The FBI?" Neal questioned, "isn't it normally the police who handle this sort of thing?"

"I don't understand either," Peter responded, "I'm calling Hughes."

"What now?" Chuck asked.

"Dump Bryce and go find nerdvana," Morgan mumbled, his eyelids fluttering. Apparently, he had been hanging around Casey too much.

Neal shot Morgan and dirty look.

"Chuck, I slipped some smelling salts into your carry-on bag. Get them out and wave them under Morgan's nose," he suggested before turning back to Peter. He was completely out of his seat by this point, leaning on the two front seats for balance. "Peter, you got the address?" Peter knew what address he meant. "Let's go straight there."

* * *

The street was closed off while the police and FBI worked. Police tape everywhere, vans and people milling around. Peter took one look and stalled.

"Wait!" he said, grabbing Neal's arm. "I don't have my badge on me."

Neal pulled a black CIA badge out of his pocket.

"I've got mine," he said, "and the FBI knows you, Peter. But, if anyone is stupid enough to question your presence, just say you're with me."

"Yeah, that's going to go down well," Peter grumbled in response. The thought of El in danger wound him up tighter than a spring and he was terrified he would do something wrong.

"You'll be surprised," Neal responded. For a moment, Peter thought he was as cool as ever and hated him for it. But, when he actually looked; Neal was tense. He was still wearing the leather jacket over a white button up shirt he borrowed from Chuck with black slacks and his hair was neat but not impeccable. Neal had forgone stopping at June's and giving himself time to clean up and put on one of his suits, his armour, in order to get here as soon as possible.

Peter had a moment of realisation. This both was and wasn't Neal Caffrey. This was the Neal who had saved Peter's life when he was accidentally poisoned, the Neal who had risked everything to save El when Keller kidnapped her, but also the Neal who had lost Kate and almost killed a man over it; this was the Neal who Peter sometimes wished he would see outside of when people's lives depended on it. It wasn't the impeccable conman who was always ready with a smile and lie, who stole things and forged things for his own gain, and who wore suits he could never afford and trusted no one.

Peter wondered how much of Neal Caffrey was a lie which parts were false, constructed to hide the spy inside, and wondered if those parts were the ones where he found Neal lacking. The too fake and shiny parts that often made him wonder what Neal was hiding now.

"Hughes said he was in the black van," Peter said, scanning the area for a van which fit the description. He pointed when he found it. "There."

As they walked over, they could hear Chuck updating Morgan.

"So, a hostage situation; that's cool. Sucks that Peter's wife is in there though. Think they'll let us break in to save them? I could try 'The Morgan' on the guy, Casey says it's a killer move."

Chuck's reply was a little apprehensive, "yeah, a little too killer. How about we sit this out, hey buddy? Let the Bryce and the police handle it?"

"No way," Morgan responded and his instant response had everything to do with his perceived rivalry with Bryce, "they don't have the Intersect, man. It's out duty to help."

"Hughes!" Peter called out, when he spotted the man in the back of the van. The van's back entrance was open, giving them a full view of the agents and equipment inside.

"Peter!" Hughes responded in his gruff manner. The lines in his face seemed to instantly increase when he lay eyes on the group. "Look, I know I told you I was here but you shouldn't have come. We can handle it."

"We can help!" Morgan insisted, not even faltering a little as Hughes turned his disapproving look to him.

"And you are?"

"Uh, Charles Carmichael," Chuck responded quickly, "CIA."

"Right!" Morgan said, catching on that they were using their spy aliases. "Michael Carmichael, I'm a member of Charles' team."

* * *

**Author's note: **Morgan's response to the news that Bryce was taking Chuck to New York; tag along and undermine the guy almost every chance he can get. And the 'almost' is only because lives are at stake. As for how Morgan knew and managed to get a seat next to Neal? General Beckman. I'm thinking I should write some outtakes when I'm done the main story; just so I can write that scene. Let me know if there's anything you want to see (I already think I'll need do the bit where Mary turns up at the Bartowski house).

Also, I had to Google the amount of time the flight would take to get from California to New York (5 hours, 20 minutes) and rounded up for bag checks and pre-flight checks and all that stuff that leaves you sitting in the seat waiting for the plane to take off or for the attendants to say you can leave.

Also, who saw this coming? Some famous last words from the previous chapter (which I didn't notice until after I wrote this chapter);

_ Chuck said, "and it's not like we'll be working the moment we land."_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

* * *

Neal ran a hand down his face before pulling out his own badge. Not even a day with Chuck and Morgan tagging along and his identity was already being compromised.

"Bryce Larkin, CIA." He internally winced a little at the suspicious look Hughes shot him. He passed the man his badge and hoisted himself up into the van. "Did anyone contact Ruiz?"

"Ruiz?" Hughes sounded surprise. Really, this whole encounter was leaving him a little shell-shocked. Anything that brought in the CIA couldn't be good and he tried so hard to avoid getting involved in such situations.

"Yeah, Agent Ruiz came in," one of the agents responded, "I'll get him here for you."

"You do that," Neal responded, hopping out of the van.

"Ruiz?" Peter questioned, confused. Agent Ruiz disliked Neal, to the point that he wouldn't even let Neal into his crime scenes unless ordered to by the higher-ups.

"Yeah, he does me favours from time to time," Neal responded and then clarified, "me as Bryce Larkin, not Neal Caffrey. He pushes me around as Caffrey because he can and, frankly, I'm okay with it. I've caused him a few headaches."

"Where's my leniency when you cause me headaches?" Peter grumbled weakly. He was trying to keep in good spirits and, thankfully, Neal seemed to be helping with that. The fact that he seemed to be taking over the operation was helping, as it put Peter closer to the situation and saving his wife.

"Ruiz knows better than to mess with the CIA," Hughes pointed out in a tone that informed Peter that Hughes thought he was doing something risky, putting his faith in these CIA agents.

"You do what they ask and hope they go away," Ruiz commented flatly as he walked around the van. "Larkin."

"Agent Ruiz," Neal responded, "what can you tell me?"

"It's as you suspected," Ruiz reported, "As soon as I heard that Burke's wife and his team were in trouble I checked up on Agent Andrew Mounce. He's unaccounted for. I also found this in his desk."

Ruiz passed Neal a picture.

"Hey, I know him!" Peter took one glance at the picture and recognised the guy. He had been shown that picture back when he had the Intersect. "Codename Bluelips, killed a few notable characters as a teenager and vanished."

"What?" Neal gasped, "did you flash?" The worry in his voice was evident.

"Yes, but not here," Peter tried to explain. It had been one of the pictures shown to him back when the CIA tested him after he first got the Intersect.

"Then this 'Bluelips'," Ruiz thought it was a stupid name, "was really Mounce. I asked around, this picture's from his teenage years."

"Right then," Neal said, handing the picture back to Ruiz. "Chuck, I want you to scan the area. Check out everyone you can, tell Ruiz if you recognise anyone; especially if you have a 'flash' of insight or something. Peter, guard Chuck."

"I can do that!" Morgan insisted, puffing out his chest. "And what are you going to do anyway?"

"Ruiz, I'm going to need a harness and cable," Neal said. He did the double-finger point at the locked-down building and the building beside it. "There's a skylight in the roof which I can get to if I jump across. I'm going to try and get in and take Mounce out. Ruiz'll handle the arrest."

"Great," Ruiz said flatly as it was anything but.

"I'll get you some of June's coffee," Neal said, "It's the best, just ask Peter."

"Why are you having him handle the arrest?" Morgan demanded to know, "wouldn't it be better for the CIA to take him?"

"He's FBI," Neal responded, as if it was obvious, "I can't arrest him as it could cause an incident between the CIA and the FBI."

"The FBI likes to handle things internally," Peter realised. But, Peter also knew how hard it was to get an agent locked up. Did this mean that Mounce would get away with it?

"It'll be okay, Peter," Neal promised, "I'll explain when this is over."

* * *

Neal ran down the alley at side of the building next to the locked-down one. Thankfully, this was an old building and still had a metal fire escape running down the side. He pulled on the harness once he was out of sight and slung the cord around the end of the fire escape. He pulled the stairs down to him as far as they would go and jumped up them.

While running up, he heard someone's clamouring footsteps behind him.

"Morgan?" he questioned, seeing the bearded one a few levels below him. "You should have stayed with Chuck!"

"And let you run off to save the day?" Morgan questioned, "no way! I'm a member of Chuck's team so I can help!"

"No, you really can't!" Neal responded down to him, "this is dangerous!"

"I can do it!" Morgan insisted, not even slowing down. Neal could see that there was no arguing with him.

He increased his pace, heading towards the roof. He was sure Morgan wouldn't follow him across rooftops.

He leapt and landed like a cat, pleased that his skills hadn't faded during his time with the FBI.

The skylight sat there, a vulnerable entrance into the building below. It even had windows! Neal smiled to himself as his job had just been made easier. He could open the window instead of smashing through the glass.

A war-cry sounded as another body came smashing onto the roof.

"Ow," Morgan complained, "that's harder than the movies make it look."

Neal's jaw dropped open and his stomach plummeted to the ground. No wonder Peter kept insisting on sticking to plans and playing it safe if this was how he felt whenever Neal went off-script and used his own plan.

* * *

Peter was nervous, worried and still wound tighter than a spring. It didn't help that Neal had gone to help El while he stood here, uselessly.

"You okay?" he asked as he noticed Chuck rubbing the space between his eyes.

"Yeah," Chuck said in a breathless voice. He sounded tired. "Just some agents mentioned an 'Agent Berrigan' and I flashed on the name. A whole bunch of stuff about her and her father popped up along with it."

"Why did they mention her?" Peter asked, curiously. He recalled Ruiz saying something about his team.

"She's in there," Chuck responded, "along with a few other agents she works with. They were all taken hostage."

"What?" Peter's body went cold and his heart stopped.

"Agent Burke," one of the agents called out to him. Peter sighed and turned to face them, wondering what could possibly go wrong now. "Mounce wants to talk to you."

Chuck and Peter shared a panicked look.

"What does he want?" Peter asked, as he took the phone. The agent didn't know.

"How did he know we were here?" Chuck questioned, getting in behind Peter. From his position, he could just hear what was being said.

"Peter Burke," Mounce's calm voice rang through the phone. Peter recalled how he had been impressed at how the agent was able to remain calm in any situation, his voice always level. "I'm surprised that everyone knows who I am; who spilled the beans?" he said pleasantly, as if this was a regular office day.

Peter swallowed down his disgust and horror. El's in there. He has El. Chuck's hand pressed to his shoulder, in a comforting gesture, reminding him that he was not alone.

"What do you want?" Peter asked, ignoring Mounce's question.

"You, of course. I thought I picked the perfect subject for the Intersect. Someone ready and willing to serve the greater good, who would easily accept our offer and was the most likely able to handle the huge amounts of information contained in our copy of the Intersect computer."

"Well, you were wrong."

Mounce ignored him and kept speaking;

"It probably helped that I was going to get your job once you were gone. It's not like you were the only choice, just the best. I mean, I could have picked Caffrey!" he laughed like this was a joke. "Can you image it? A conman in charge of the Government's secrets? Besides, you would hunt Caffrey down if he vanished. But, I digress."

"What do you want?" Peter seethed.

"Well, I miscalculated. Congratulations, Peter, your wife and your agents are very loyal. So very loyal that they started investigating your disappearance and I couldn't have that. Their little nameless friend; Mozart, was it?, he managed to get a little too close to us. And then you escaped. So now, it's easier to just purge everything and start over."

"What?"

"I'm using your wife as bait, Peter. You come to the door, knock twice and I'll let you and that CIA agent with you in. But only you two. No guns or tricks."

"How did you know there's an agent with me?" Peter asked.

Mounce laughed.

"The CIA wouldn't let an asset go without a handler. You and your handler, at the door in under two minutes, or I'll start shooting. Agent Jones will be first."

Peter swore and moved.

* * *

**Author's note: **I forgot I didn't have this chapter up yet...here you go.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

* * *

El shivered. Partly from the cold and partly from fear. Her wrists burned and ached from where they had been zip-tied together behind her back. She rested her head on her knees and looked down at the zip-ties around her anklets. So far, she had come up with no way to break them and escape.

They had thought that Andrew Mounce was helping them. He had approached Diana and Jones; telling them that something was off about what was happening with Peter. He said he was going to looking into what happened to him and wanted to know if they would help. Jones and Diana had shared some of their own information with him but it wasn't until after Mozzie told El that Neal had vanished that they brought him in completely.

He said he had found something and told them to all come to this address, only to gas them unconscious, tie them up and hold them hostage. Mozzie was sitting right next to El, his face slightly pink from rage. Diana was on her other side, her face stormy, with Jones next to her. Jones was constantly shooting ideas at them, trying to encourage someone to find a plan of escape.

"The CIA wouldn't let an asset go without a handler. You and your handler, at the door in under two minutes, or I'll start shooting. Agent Jones will be first," Mounce said before hanging up. He turned to them and waved his gun in the air. "Seems 'Agent Burke' has finally arrived."

El's heart jumped into her throat. Were they wrong and Peter was okay?

"Why are you doing this?" she demanded to know. She knew that Mounce wouldn't shoot her just yet, that he would save her for last or at least wait until Peter arrived.

Mounce seemed surprised that she had asked.

"Surely one of you could figure that out," he commented.

"We found out too much and you were sent to kill us!" Mozzie guessed in a hysterical tone, "I knew it! Feds can't be trusted."

"Hey," Jones commented in an offended tone.

Mounce ignored them as he scanned his laptop screen. It was hooked up to the system so he could see and control everything. He watched Peter knock twice, his CIA handler standing behind him. They both looked nervous.

He automatically unlocked the door and watched them make their way through the building. Neither of them pulled a gun and they weren't visibly armed. But, there had to be a trick somewhere.

* * *

The door to the room opened and Peter walked in with his hands up. Chuck followed in behind with his hands on his head.

"Peter Burke," Mounce gloated with a smirk. "Perfect." He nodded towards Chuck. "And what name did he give you?"

"Charles Carmichael," Peter said. Chuck looked slightly pale and tense at the sight of the gun. Kind of reminded him of Neal, actually. Something protective flared in Peter's chest.

"Really?" Mounce cocked and eyebrow. He pointed the gun at Chuck. "Step away from Peter thank you, Mr Carmichael."

Chuck did as he asked, swallowing nervously as he moved. His vision flicked up for a moment and he saw something dark moving near the skylight windows.

"Don't hurt them!" El cried out. She was feeling sick from seeing the gun pointed at people. This man was playing with them and they all knew that.

"She's right, you know," Peter said, trying to distract Mounce's attention away from his wife. "You shoot us and everyone outside comes rushing in."

"Yes, I know how it works." Mounce wasn't impressed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some zip-ties which he tossed onto the ground in front of him. "Take those and tie up Mr. Carmichael for me, Peter."

"Wait!" Chuck said, taking a few steps towards Mounce. Once again, the gun was pointed at him.

Mounce took a few steps towards Chuck.

"It wasn't a request," Mounce growled, "either Agent Burke ties you up or you I shoot you. Pick."

"Chuck," Peter said in an insistent tone. It was supposed to remind Chuck to follow the man's instructions before he killed someone but, Chuck wasn't listening.

Chuck was hesitating.

"Fine," Mounce said but, before he could continue or take a shot, a cry came from above and a body dropped from the ceiling.

"Chuck!" It was Morgan's voice which sounded from above.

Neal had jumped down; using the cord and harness he had acquired to rappel down from the skylight and land right on Mounce's shoulders, knocking the man to the ground.

"Morgan?" Chuck questioned, looking up. Morgan waved from the open window in the skylight. He mouthed; 'god that was so cool', before catching himself and moving away from the window.

"Grab the gun!" Neal said, pointing at Mounce's gun which had slid across the floor.

Peter moved. He grabbed the gun moments before Mounce, who had thrown Neal off to go for the gun.

"Don't move!" Peter ordered, cocking the gun in Mounce's face. A moment later, a karate chop from Chuck rendered the man unconscious.

"What?" Chuck questioned with a shrug when everyone stared at him. "I flashed."

"'Bout time," Neal commented with a smile as he checked Mounce's pulse.

"That's my man!" Morgan praised from above with a 'whoop', "way to go, Chuck!"

* * *

Ruiz and his agents arrested Mounce and hauled him away. Neal whispered to Peter that Ruiz would arrange for Mounce would be 'transferred' and they would never see him again. Peter decided he didn't want to know more. Hughes was in agreement and arranged for them to quietly leave the scene. Neal took Chuck and Morgan back to June's and Peter took El home. Mozzie had vanished the moment Neal cut his zip-ties.

Jones and Diana were the only ones who hung around, watching everyone scramble to clear the scene and helping where they could.

* * *

The next morning, Peter awoke almost instantly when he stretched out and registered the missing presence of his wife.

"El?" he questioned, looking around. She wasn't in the room, but there were signs that she had gotten up and dressed.

Peter dressed quickly and cautiously walked downstairs. He heard hushed voices before he was halfway down. In the dining room, sitting at the table, was his wife. And Jones and Diana and Mozzie. The four of them looked innocently up at him as he walked in.

"What's going on?" he questioned, feeling out of the loop.

"Well, you got the guy who brainwashed you," Mozzie explained, "but you're still brainwashed."

"It's called the Intersect, Moz," Diana reminded him.

Peter looked to El.

"Well, uh, Agent Mounce informed us about a Professor at Stanford university who used to research into the field of subconscious and subliminal imagery."

"Which is what the method of brainwashing stuck in your Fed-head uses," Mozzie finished for El.

"Of course, he only did this after Jones and I started looking closer at Micah's case," Diana added, "after we realised that he might have an inside man."

"Yeah, but while the information was meant to distract us, it's still valid. We checked," Jones said, nodding to everyone else as he did. "We're hoping to find a way to get the Intersect out of your head."

Peter stood frozen for a moment. His jaw dropped a little. It was impressive the amount of work they had done to try and help him but, it was all redundant now.

"Don't get your hopes up just yet," Mozzie said when he didn't speak, "the Professor in question is dead; he died back in 2007."

2007, why did that year seem familiar?

However, before he could properly recall, there was a knock at the door.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

* * *

Neal stood on the doorstep and was back to wearing suits. He had a coffee in his hand and a slightly panicked look in his eyes.

"What happened? Did Andrew Mounce escape?" Peter asked, immediately thinking the worst.

Neal tilted his head in confusion.

"What?" he questioned and then shook his head. "No. I just need to get out of June's for a few hours."

"Neal, it's barely seven," Peter pointed out, "and I haven't even had breakfast yet."

"Perfect," Neal responded with that little eyebrow bounce that annoyed Peter as he let himself in.

Peter sighed and grabbed Neal's wrist.

"What's wrong with June's?" he asked, seeing Neal's eyebrow twitch.

"You know how June agreed to let Morgan and Chuck stay in his guest rooms while they're here?" Peter nodded. "Well, Morgan just won't shut up." Neal expressed his annoyance by fiddling and tugging at his cuff-links. "Nothing's good enough for him. There are too many windows, the open-floor plan offers no privacy, there are too many points of entry, and apparently my cooking has 'no style'; did you know that Morgan used to be a Benihana chef?" Neal's voice was slightly strained as he continued, "and the questions! Why don't I have my own place? Am I taking advantage of nice old-lady June? Where's the closest game shop? Why don't I know which game shop is the best? Why don't I own a gaming console? Why do I need so many suits?" Neal paused and took a calming breath. "Thank goodness they're only staying for a few days."

Peter tried not to laugh and look solemn. He ended up smiling but not laughing, which he considered to be a win.

"Sounds like having the in-laws over," he commented, letting Neal in as it sounded like the poor guy needed it. He also didn't mention how it sounded just like spending a day with Mozzie.

"How do you deal with that?" Neal asked.

"Beer," Peter responded without hesitation, "and I try to keep in mind that it's important for El to see her parents."

Neal made a show of thinking about that for a moment before declaring, "nope, that won't work for me."

Peter gave a snort and a chuckle.

"'Course not, buddy."

"What's going on here? A party?" Neal commented when they reached the dining room and he spotted everyone else. He turned to Peter. "Peter, are you having a party without inviting me?"

"Neal!" El said happily, standing up in order to give the conman a hug. "Come, join us."

"We're in the middle of cracking a government conspiracy," Mozzie announced.

"And helping Peter," Diana reminded him.

"And saving the Suit, yes," Mozzie said with much less enthusiasm, "but possible spy recruitment at Stanford is so much more fun."

Peter spotted the way Neal momentarily stilled.

"I don't think I've heard that one before," he commented smoothly, "where'd you hear that one, Moz?"

"Our Killer Suit told us about a Professor Fleming at Stanford and we checked him out. Turns out he died in 2007, so we started looking into his students."

"It was Mozzie's idea," Diana added. Mozzie nodded and basked in the praise.

"Right! And some of his students are barely on the grid, almost underground, if not dead." Mozzie grabbed a file and shoved it into Neal's hands. "This one, Bryce Larkin, is the only one who died around around the same time. Give or take a few months."

Neal glanced back at Peter, allowing part of his panic to show through.

Jones took up talking at Mozzie's cue, "guy died in a bank robbery. We checked it out, the bank robbery happened but, not one of the employees could remember what Larkin looked like or his personality. He's just on the books, nothing more. Sounds just like a cover."

Peter took the file from Neal and opened it. It contained information about Bryce Larkin from his Stanford years and the years at the bank following that. It appeared that he was an accountant. Peter gave Neal an amused look, he knew that Bryce Larkin was not an accountant.

Never in his entire life had Neal wanted to run more.

* * *

Chuck glared at Morgan. Morgan was seated on a chair at Neal's table, his breakfast lying forgotten as Chuck chewed him out.

"You know we're leaving in a few days!" Chuck reminded him sternly, "the flight is booked and you're even booked the seat right next to me. So, why are you competing with Bryce?"

"Honestly, Chuck, I don't believe for one second that you'll be on that plane."

"Of course I will," Chuck responded, giving Morgan a confused look.

"Really?" Morgan questioned sceptically, "because if Bryce wants you to stay, then you'll be staying."

Chuck was floored for a second. Did Morgan really think that way?

"Bryce wouldn't do that." This time, Chuck spoke over the disbelieving look Morgan shot him. "He knows that Sarah is waiting back home for me. He knows that I won't trust him again if he pulled something. And even if he did try something; Sarah would kill him. Casey will probably beat her to killing him, just so he could shoot Bryce Larkin again. Also, his friends here wouldn't like it; I don't think Peter would let him get away with keeping me here."

Morgan looked slightly convinced but disapproving just so he wouldn't have to admit he was wrong.

"Baring some national emergency or the like, I will be on that plane. Burbank is my home and I've fought really hard over the years to be able to stay there. I have the house of my dreams, a wife I love and a baby on the way." Chuck paused for a second and then added, "and you have a girlfriend! Did you even tell her you were coming here before hopping on the plane here?"

"No," Morgan mumbled, feeling chagrined.

"Call her," Chuck informed him in a much kinder voice, "we both have lives we have to get back to but, until then, we're going to check out the FBI."

That brought a smile to Morgan's face.

"Chuck and Morgan: in the FBI offices," he almost-squealed. He had always wanted to see how the suits did things. They had offices with paperwork but also guns and handcuffs and were like awesome police officers. "This is going to be so cool!"

And Chuck had to instantly burst his bubble of excitement by adding, "you have to apologise to Bryce first."

* * *

Neal was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He had no intentions of going home and facing Morgan again. But, staying here and listening to the people he saw as friends, talking about his life as Bryce Larkin; it felt wrong. It felt like he was hiding something from them, for the first time in a long time. He hadn't felt this bad; guilt, it was called 'guilt', since Alder escaped and he had to tell Kate about Neal Caffrey and risk losing her.

He never told Kate about Bryce Larkin. It just wasn't an issue. The CIA didn't know what name he used while infiltrating Alder's offices. They didn't really care how he did it. All that mattered was that he had.

He never even told Mozzie. Mozzie would probably kill him, especially considering how he was the one to flag Bryce as suspicious.

Peter gave him a telling glance. No doubt he was wondering if Neal was going to tell them. But, no. They had already discussed this back in Burbank. Peter was free to tell El, since Neal would never make him lie to her, but no one else could know.

A slight headshake was Peter's only response.

"Neal!" Mozzie called, trying to catch his friend's attention. It worked and he asked, "have you been listening?"

"Some guy died in a bank robbery and you think he might have been a spy."

"Yeah, except he's not dead," Jones announced.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

* * *

"Yeah, except he's not dead," Jones announced. Mozzie was outraged.

"I wanted to say that!"

Peter and Neal shared another look.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

Mozzie glared at Jones for a moment before looking away in a huff. The little guy dropped back into his seat and didn't say a word. He was offended and an offended Mozzie was an uncooperative Mozzie.

"Right," Jones said clearing his throat. "Basically, Bryce Larkin is still alive. We asked around yesterday after you went home, turns out he walked in and all but took over the operation."

"He had Ruiz do most of his work," Diana said with the shake of her head. "God, I hate spies."

Mozzie glared at her and looked like he wanted to say something but his self-imposed silence held.

Meanwhile, Neal was silently cursing. He hadn't given himself time to switch back to being Neal yesterday, so had to use Bryce's credentials. Not that it mattered as there was a cover story in place; it was just a little too close to home. It was surprising how much Mozzie and the Harvard squad, plus El, had managed to find out with just a name. And it had been inspired for them to check around to see which CIA agents appeared on the scene yesterday. Neal hadn't thought they would do that.

"Bryce is my CIA handler," Peter said with a sympathetic glare to Neal, like Neal was missing something.

Neal tried to figure it out but couldn't think of anything beyond how weird it was to hear Peter call him 'Bryce'. He didn't have to though because his phone began to ring. He was barely spared a glance as he went outside to answer it; they were all interested in the cover story Peter was giving them.

* * *

Neal recognised the number as Chuck's and answered in a cheery voice. However, it wasn't Chuck's voice that responded.

"Morgan," Neal said with slight annoyance. He only allowed a hint of his feelings to seep through; he felt a lot of frustration towards Chuck's friend. Morgan had it good; he could stand by Chuck's side and work with him both in Chuck's regular life and his spy one. Bryce was only a part of Chuck's spy life, having been cut from regular life years ago.

"Chuck has brought into question some of my actions over the past day." Neal bit back his sarcastic comment on how Morgan was questioning just the past day, when the little bearded one had been bothering him since he turned up in Burbank. "And I apologise."

"What exactly did Chuck say?" Neal questioned, knowing that it hadn't been just about Morgan's actions. It would take something like an ultimatum for Morgan to actually apologise.

"If I didn't apologise, I wouldn't get to go to the FBI building tomorrow," Morgan whispered into the phone, afraid that Chuck might hear and retract the offer.

"Oh." Neal was surprised that Chuck would barter with that. He was even more surprised that Morgan would want to visit the FBI.

However, it wasn't going to be that hard to get Morgan into the offices. Chuck was there under the guise of handing Peter back over to the FBI. He was the open face that people could trust, in spite of working for the CIA. Chuck would give documents to Hughes, assure him that the people who took Peter had been dealt with and spend a few days in Peter's office, helping him settle back in. Like an assistant. Adding Morgan to the deal wouldn't make anyone bat an eyelid.

"Apology accepted," Neal said, hanging up moments later.

* * *

Neal and Peter had discussed it, back in Burbank. Neal would appear like he never left and Peter would return to his regular life. As Bryce Larkin though, Neal had a new job as Peter's handler. He was to watch over Peter and keep him safe from enemy agents because Peter still knew government secrets even without the Intersect. That was simple to work out.

The difficult part was who to tell about Neal bring Bryce. Difficult for Neal because Peter kept bugging him to trust his team and difficult for Peter because he thought Neal was being stubborn.

Peter wanted to tell El, Jones, Diana and Mozzie; because the little guy deserved to know. Mozzie had help Neal hide his escape from prison without knowing why.

Neal said that Peter could tell El because he wouldn't force Peter to lie to his wife; not that Peter could lie to his wife. El was a smart woman.

As for everyone else, Neal said they didn't need to know. Peter argued that his team needed to know. Neal would question why.

_"So, it's not okay for me to lie to my wife but okay for me to lie to Diana and Jones?" Peter had questioned._

_"Yes," was Neal's flat response._

Information about Bryce was need-to-know and none of them needed to know. Neal hadn't told Kate but, then again, he had Kate had been over even long before he went to prison. His desperate search for her had been to inform her that Neal Caffrey was going to vanish for good so that she wouldn't waste her life wondering if they would ever get back together.

Except that Peter caught Neal and Neal realised that if he vanished and went back to being Bryce Larkin for the rest of his life then Peter would spend his life trying to hunt him down. Peter needed closure and so, Neal went to prison. In a move to help Mozzie's plan, Neal paid Kate to visit 'him' in prison every week.

Neal had returned to prison two weeks before she vanished. Not wanting to lose an asset; he wasn't that kind of agent and he didn't want to be that kind of agent, he tried to help her.

Neal managed to escape, Mozzie arranged for someone to take his place; although the plan was a little more involved than that, and Kate was all the confirmation anyone outside needed that Neal Caffrey was in prison. All this was done without Neal breathing a word about Bryce Larkin.

Neal looked over the information Mozzie had gathered about his past as Bryce Larkin, thankfully, it seemed he hadn't found any pictures yet.

_"It's not like telling the whole FBI,"_ _Peter had said, "Jones and Diana can keep a secret."_

_"I know that," Neal had responded, "but, everyone talks."_ Neal wondered just how long the average FBI agent would hold up to torture. _"The less people who know the better."_

Peter still wasn't convinced and he made some good points; Neal froze. No. He was not thinking about this; there was nothing to think about! Keeping secrets was imperative to a spy. And to a conman.

In spite of all his training, despite everything Neal had sacrificed to keep his secret, was he really thinking about telling?


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

* * *

Everything seemed so shiny and new. Morgan bounced on the balls of his feet as they went up the elevator; watching the numbers rise until they reached floor twenty-one. The White Collar division.

"Chuck! Look! Chuck!" Morgan whispered happily, trying to draw his friend's attention on everything he found interesting. He passed right through the large glass doors embellished with the FBI logo. He wandered around the desks and disappeared down the rows of files a few times as he absorbed everything. There were stamps of 'confidential' on almost everything he looked at.

This was so much better than the Buy More!

"I can't believe you work here!" he said to Neal, who had been watching over him. Chuck had gone up to meet with the boss of this floor; a Reese Hughes.

"It's not that special," Neal pointed out in a dry tone. Morgan didn't mind. He was in too high spirits. Plus, he had seen Neal's smiles and smooth act with everyone else, had been on the receiving end too often to trust the guy, and was slightly pleased that he had toned it down when talking to him.

"Do you see that?" Morgan responded, pointing to a random folder with 'confidential' printed on it. "It's like, mysterious. Anything could be printed in it; like the secret location of some criminal's treasure trove, a list of stolen items, an impossible crime just waiting to be solved, or the script for the next 'piracy is stealing' clip!"

Neal picked up the folder and opened it, skimming the first page.

"Mortgage fraud," he announced with distaste, placing the file back on the desk.

Morgan waved Neal off, the guy just had to try and spoil everything; didn't he?, and walked towards the coffee smell.

"You have a desk to work at, files to read and a coffee station," he breathed in, savouring the smell. Working at the Buy More meant Morgan spent most of his days standing and dealing with irate people. Sitting down and reading through the crimes of the world seemed so much better in comparison.

"I wouldn't call that 'coffee'," Neal responded, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Jones came up and placed his coffee cup in the sink.

"Don't let him get to you," he told Morgan, "there are places around here with good coffee. We send the probies, or Neal, to get it."

Neal spotted the sparkle in Morgan's eye and, unfortunately for him, so did Jones.

"Hey, Neal," Jones added, "why don't you go and get the guy a coffee?"

"I guess FBI coffee doesn't count?" Neal questioned, knowing that it didn't. Jones' smile told him that much. But, the office had been tense when Peter was gone and it was nice to see them playing the game and joking around again.

"Alright, one actual coffee coming right up."

"Want to see where we interrogate the suspects?" Jones asked Morgan once Neal was out of earshot.

"Yes!" Morgan responded.

* * *

Chuck blanched at the amount of paperwork awaiting Peter's attention. Forms and files waiting to be read, an email account filled with unanswered emails and a whole lot of junk that was irrelevant after so much time away.

Chuck picked up an origami flower and twisted it in his hands. The folds were crisp in a way his clumsy fingers couldn't match.

Peter looked at the flower with fondness.

"Neal," he informed Chuck in a half-sigh, half-grumble. Chuck looked at him in surprise.

"Bryce made this?" He had never seen Bryce do origami before. He had seen Bryce doodle on notebooks and loose paper back at Stanford, everyone did that, but never fashion things out of it.

"I know you see him as 'Bryce' but, you should call him 'Neal' here," Peter said, causing Chuck to sigh.

"'Neal'," he stressed the name, "already warned us. Some of your agents are close to figuring him out?"

Peter shrugged.

"I don't know. Neal doesn't seem to think there's an issue, but I think he's deluding himself." Chuck pulled up a seat as Peter spoke. It was interesting to hear him talk about Neal, to learn about the life he friend had here. "He seems to think he can keep this lie going forever but, even the best lies fall apart eventually."

"Is it really a lie?" Chuck questioned. He knew that people could live with different names throughout their life. His wife had gone through numerous name changes before becoming 'Sarah Bartowski' and Sarah wasn't even her birth name. Chuck himself had fashioned a 'spy identity' as Agent Charles Carmichael and Morgan had followed his lead and done the same. Agent Charles Carmichael had done things Chuck could hardly believe at times; he had saved lives and taken down hostile organisations, but they weren't lies. They happened.

Peter didn't seem to get it though.

"Has Neal changed since you found out about Bryce?" Chuck asked instead.

Peter paused, as if considering the question.

"Speaking of Neal," he said, standing up and going to the door. He used the double-finger point to bring Diana up to them. "Where's Neal?"

"Coffee run," Diana responded, sneaking side-glances at Chuck. Chuck smiled and tried to look unsuspicious. All the guns in the office were making him a little nervous.

Peter frowned. He had thought that Neal was intent on following Morgan around since that's what he had been doing when Peter and Chuck went to see Hughes.

"Coffee run?" he questioned, sceptically.

Diana nodded and said, "Jones sent him."

"And where's Jones?"

"Giving Carmichael's friend a tour."

Peter glanced back at Chuck. Chuck was slightly confused at what was going on, why did it matter if Neal went for coffee and Jones took Morgan on a tour? Peter couldn't help thinking how odd it was that Jones had taken Chuck's friend on a tour while Neal was conveniently away. Peter knew his agents. They were good agents who saw things through to the end and unravelled mysteries. Things like the full story behind their boss' sudden return.

* * *

Morgan walked into the room and marvelled at how the windows looked like mirrors from this side. There were a lot of two-way mirrors here. The walls of this room all reflected the table, with built-in microphone, chairs and Morgan as he walked around.

"So cool," he commented in awe as he ran his hand along the table. He wondered what kinds of criminals would be interrogated here. The idea of Neal sitting at this table while Peter questioned him about whatever crime he had pulled off was amusing.

"There's a camera too," Jones informed him, pointing up at the corner of the room where the camera sat. It was undisguised and yet, somehow, Morgan had missed it when he walked in. Jones let Morgan wander around a moment more before clearing his throat and asking, "so, you and Chuck, you've known each other a while?"

"'A while'?" Morgan questioned in a slightly insulted and proud tone, "try our whole lives. I grew up with the guy."

"Ah. So, when Chuck went to Stanford, you...?" Jones left the end of the question hanging for Morgan to fill in.

"Kept in touch," Morgan responded with a frown. He wondered why Jones was asking this. "And then Chuck came back a mess thanks to-" Morgan stopped speaking, Neal's warning flashing through his head. He might not have liked the guy, but he wasn't going to sell him out to his friends. "I'm hungry, is Neal back with the coffee, yet?" he said instead, bouncing out of the room.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

* * *

Chuck excused himself and walked out of Peter's office, under the guise of searching for Morgan. Neal had told him that if he got a chance to look around the office, to take it. Chuck took it. He eavesdropped on conversations around the coffee machine; Chuck missed Buy More coffee which he hadn't thought possible until now, and wandered around files and desks.

He probably looked really suspicious or really curious, he didn't know which. At least he could ask some of the agents if they had seen his friend and abate their suspicious a bit.

_Don't look at me; I'm just a lost harmless guy without a gun, searching for his friend,_ Chuck found himself repeating in his head. He never really liked the sensation of having all eyes on him.

A voice Chuck recognised was heading his way. Instinctively, he ducked just inside a nearby door and set himself up to listen.

"Something about this seems off," it was Jones but, Morgan wasn't there.

"I agree." That was Diana. Chuck swallowed and automatically held his breath, praying they wouldn't catch him listening. "They keep the boss for weeks and then return him with not one agent looking over him, but three?"

"And we haven't even been able to lay eyes on this 'Bryce Larkin' yet," Jones commented, "I asked Ruiz and he just glared at me and told me to bother some other agent because he didn't care for our 'white collar nonsense' and that he had real cases to solve."

"So, you bothered some other agents?" Diana's voice sounded amused.

"Of course," Jones responded as if it was obvious, "but the only guy who could give me a positive ID backed out when Ruiz walked in. Ruiz ordered him to do some 'real work' and, when I cornered the guy again later, he said he wasn't going to get involved and I was on my own."

"That's odd," Diana said, her voice now tense.

"Yeah." Jones' voice was the same. "Got Michael Carmichael's real name though. Morgan Grimes."

Chuck silently cursed. How did they know that? It made sense if they were able to find out Morgan's first name since no one was hiding it, but his surname?

"So, he's not Peter's CIA handler?"

"No. As far as I can actually tell, he does work with Agent Carmichael-"

"Whose name is not Carmichael either."

"Right. But he's not Bryce. I think he knows the guy though because he was going to say something and then stopped."

Chuck breathed a sigh of relief that they hadn't found out his name and then wondered, once again, what was going on. Both Peter and Neal had spoken highly of Jones and Diana; but here were those two agents, plotting against them. Or Neal. Even though they didn't know it was Neal.

Thank god Morgan hadn't gone into a rant about how Bryce had gotten Chuck kicked out of Stanford and stole his girlfriend; even though it had been a fake relationship which his ex-girlfriend used in order to break up with Chuck because she worked for an enemy spy group who didn't want her dating him. Chuck wondered if Morgan was warming up to Bryce. It would be nice if his two friends could be friends too.

"I've got to say, I thought a CIA agent would be able to tell when someone picked their pocket," Jones commented, answering at least one of Chuck's silent questions, "but, Morgan didn't seem to notice."

Chuck made a mental note to talk to Morgan about protecting his wallet and phone and resolved to do the same. Maybe Neal would have some ideas.

* * *

Aside from Morgan momentarily losing his wallet, although he claimed it never went missing, the day progressed smoothly. The only flashes Chuck had were ones related to the criminals in files.

Neal offered to take them to lunch; Peter was paying, creating a legitimate reason for them to be together. Neal tried not to be too friendly with them in the office; which was easy with Morgan and close to impossible with Chuck. But, he managed. He also showed them ways to tell when someone was going to pick their pockets and, in a strange move for Bryce, didn't scold them for messing up and revealing Morgan's name.

But Chuck had just reported Jones' and Diana's secret talk which might have been worrying him. It was hard to tell if he was worried or just thinking.

Neal believed that there were two ways to handle this; imply that Bryce Larkin was going to remain hidden through secret meetings and drop points or just leave it and hope they get bored hunting for someone they will never find.

Chuck realised that Neal didn't consider telling them an option.

"You know, I've had a few people find out about my work with the CIA," he said to Neal as Peter was paying and Morgan was trying to wrangle a dessert. "Captain Awesome thought it was cool, for a while at least. After a close call, he wanted nothing to do with it. He was okay with me though, thought I was 'awesome'." Neal chuckled at that. "Ellie found out and a few of my girlfriends. Jeff and Lester, once. But, we managed to convince them that they had too much to drink and went to Vegas."

"Do you have a point?" Neal questioned with a cheerful quirk of an eyebrow and smirk. Chuck took a deep breath. Here was something he never thought he would have to do; give advice to Bryce Larkin the super-spy.

"My point is none of them left me because I was a spy. They didn't judge or hate me."

"That's because it's almost impossible to hate you, Chuck," Neal pointed out with a shake of his head.

While disappointed, Chuck knew better than to push. Pushing Neal made him do the exact opposite of whatever you wanted. But, he didn't think Neal and Peter would be able to work together well if Bryce's identity was just their secret. They needed a team they could trust.

* * *

Chuck dropped another file onto Peter's desk and tried to ignore the words swimming before his eyes. FBI files were set out differently to CIA ones and were more text heavy with law or lawyer-like words that Chuck didn't fully understand. Morgan was lazing about in one of the Conference room chairs and dozing with his feet up on the desk.

Peter's phone beeped.

"Neal wants to meet me after work as Bryce," Peter announced in a hushed voice.

Chuck realised that Neal had decided on establishing the hidden-Bryce and felt slightly disappointed with his friend. Secret meetings and temperament for picking people's pockets aside, Jones and Diana was smart, interesting and fun people. He would love to have them on his team, but doubted that they would want to quit the FBI and move to Burbank.

"Hey, Peter," Neal said, surprising them both by appearing in the doorway. "Since you're buried in paperwork, I'm going to head home. Chuck, you want a lift?"

Chuck glanced over at Morgan, wondering if his friend would agree with his decision.

"No. We'll get a taxi or something."

Neal hadn't expected that response, although it made sense to him. If he left with the CIA agents it might be suspicious. Oddly enough, Chuck, Peter and even Morgan's attempts to help him keep his identity secret bothered him. It was touching but also made him feel slightly discontented.

"Alright," he responded slowly, still processing this, "I'll see you tomorrow then."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

* * *

Peter slipped out of the office the moment the clock hit five. Chuck watched him go before waking Morgan.

"Exciting day?" he asked his friend in a joking tone.

"Mostly," Morgan responded, shaking off the last of his sleep. "Never introduce paperwork into the Buy More, buddy."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"I mean it," Morgan continued, "if we have to start filling out and reading through stacks of forms for everything we do, I'll quit."

Downstairs, in the bullpen, Jones and Diana were leaving. Together. It wouldn't have been suspicious except, they were whispering to each other and Jones was carrying one of the large black and silver suitcases the FBI stored equipment in.

"They're planning something," Morgan pointed out in an interested tone. He was out the door and following before Chuck could even suggest going after them.

"Wait up!" Chuck hissed after him.

They jumped into the elevator after them.

"Which floor did they go to?" Morgan questioned. Chuck, who had been watching the numbers the elevator stopped at, listed off some possibilities.

Morgan pressed the floor closest to the carpark. They dashed out and dropped low when they spotted Jones and Diana getting into a van.

"So, do we steal a car now?" Morgan asked.

"No!" Chuck responded, horrified. Stealing a car from FBI agents was possibly a death sentence. "We get a taxi, come on."

Morgan followed Chuck as they flagged down a taxi, with a none too happy driver, and followed the white van. They almost lost it a few times but, Morgan put them back on the right track. Apparently he had helped Jeff and Lester with trailing women home in the past.

When the van pulled up, they had the driver pull over at the end of the street.

They were standing down the street from a park. Diana jumped out of the van and walked straight inside.

"What now?" Morgan questioned. If they walked into the park, there was a chance that Jones in the van would spot them.

But, if they didn't go into the park, they wouldn't know what they were up to.

"Come on," Chuck said, walking over to the park.

"Don't look at the van and hope they don't see us, I get it," Morgan said, just stopping short of pressing himself up against Chuck's side.

* * *

Peter really hoped that this wasn't going to be like one of Mozzie's meetings. He went to the park and sat on the bench as instructed and now was just waiting for something to happen.

"Please don't let there be code-phrases or puzzles," Peter mumbled under his breath.

"Relax a little, Peter," a familiar voice sounded from behind him. Neal appeared from behind a nearby tree and moved to sit next to him. He was wearing a cap top obscure his hair and part of his face as well as sunglasses. His clothes were similar to the ones he wore while in Burbank so he wasn't recognisable as Neal on first glance.

"I don't get why we have to do this," Peter complained in a low voice.

"We just need to do it until Jones and Diana give up," Neal responded calmly.

Peter gave a long-suffering sigh and shook his head.

"I can't believe I'm helping you pull off a long con."

"Now who's mixing up cons with government sanctioned ops?" Neal smirked.

Peter glared at him; that wasn't the point. But, verbalising that would just start a discussion about the differences, or lack of, between Suits and Cons.

"How'd El take the news?" Neal asked. Peter shifted.

"Ah...I haven't told her," he responded nervously.

"What?"

"I didn't get the chance to tell her. She started filling me in about everything I missed and," he paused for a moment, "it's not my place to tell."

"I gave you permission." Peter bit back the urge to inform Neal that it wasn't his permission that caused the issue. Peter didn't need his permission.

"Maybe I feel you should tell her, not me," he responded instead, "you'll be able to answer her questions."

"She doesn't need answers to questions," Neal said.

Peter frowned in a disapproving manner, before glancing over Neal's shoulder.

"Did you invite Chuck too?" he questioned.

Neal spun around and stood up, glaring down at his old friend.

"Diana's heading this way," Chuck said, stopping so that he was standing in front of Neal. "She and Jones followed you."

"Yeah," Morgan said, "they have a van and everything!"

Neal glanced back at Peter, slightly panicked.

"I didn't think they'd have the van."

"Neal, if they get a camera on you," Peter didn't need to finish his sentence. Even if they couldn't recognise him with the hat and glasses, the FBI would be able to run facial recognition scans.

"Right, I'm going to run," Neal announced, turning to Peter. "I'll see you later."

Peter didn't have a chance to respond as Neal broke into a sprint down the path. He moved quick, vanishing into the distance in moments.

"Diana!" Peter barked when she bolted past them. His voice held enough authority to give her pause.

"Sorry, boss," she said. And then she bolted after him.

"I don't think they'll catch him," Morgan commented.

"I think you're right," Peter said. He was the only one who could catch Neal Caffrey. "I'm going home."

"Think you could give us a lift first?" Chuck asked nervously, "we kind of wasted all our money getting here."

* * *

Neal ran. He made sure to twist and turn and not run in a straight line. He jumped over chairs and danced his way through crowds. In the distance, he could hear Diana coming after him. Years with the White Collar crew had allowed him to memorise the sound of their running footsteps.

He reached the edge of the park and passed through the exit.

He reacted, only realising what had happened a moment later. A body had slammed into his side, trying to knock him to the ground. He executed a move which allowed him to twist and throw the attacker's body to the ground. He dropped on top of it a moment after but quickly got up and ran across the street.

Looking back wasn't something he should have done. But he was slightly worried about whether Jones was able to get up.

"Look out!" A car was heading straight for Jones. Neal surged forward and pulled him out of the way. Jones gripped his wrists and was about to handcuff him so Neal twisted him around and banged his back into a street pole. The shock made Jones let him go.

Neal silently apologised as he bolted again. He moved through the crowd and pulled off his jacket, throwing it into a nearby bin. He was wearing two shirts under it, a dark tee and a white, long-sleeved shirt.

Cutting through an alley, he pulled off the dark tee, his cap and sunglasses and deposited them in different bins as he passed. Then, he ducked into a bakery and bought a cake.

* * *

**Author's note: **So, I tried my hand at some action. What do you think? (Edit: I removed a line)


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

* * *

The cake was for Elizabeth. And Peter, maybe. If he wasn't in the middle of one of El's imposed diets.

Neal knew he was, but also knew that El would give him a slice as a special treat.

It was the least he could do, since he was planning on spoiling their evening. He stood on the doorstep for a while, thinking about how he was going to do this. There were no plans, no cons that fit the scenario, no script from the CIA and he had no prior experience in this.

Chuck had already known he was a spy when he came barrelling back into his friend's life. General Beckman spoiled his plan to pretend that Neal Caffrey had powerful friends when she called him 'Agent Larkin' in front of Peter.

And he had no idea how he was going to tell El. He wondered if he could just sit there while Peter explained and look pretty.

"So, when do you plan to come in?" Peter asked, opening the door. Neal smirked back.

"When I'm ready. You know how we fashionable people are."

"It's hard to be fashionably late when you're not even invited," Peter responded without missing a beat, "and there's no party."

"Aw, really?" He lifted his box so that Peter could see it. "I brought a cake. What's a cake without a party?"

"Mozzie's here," Peter responded, completely ruining the light mood. Neal almost dropped the cake.

"Please tell me that's just a really bad joke," he said. He expected Mozzie to be at one of his safe houses with a bottle of wine and a book.

"Nope," Peter responded, opening the door wide for him to come in. "He says he has a new theory."

That did not sound like a good thing. Indeed, Mozzie was sitting at the table with El. There was a laptop where Peter normally sat. Possibly, Peter took a chance to check Neal's tracking data while Mozzie and El talked and noticed it at his front door. Neal buried his apprehension under a joke.

"At Suit casa again, Moz?" he questioned, "should I be worried?"

"I am clean," Mozzie responded, "and I'll run through my mind control and bugging checks when I leave."

"Everything okay, Neal?" El questioned with a worried frown on her smooth face.

"I brought cake," he announced with a smile as he held up the box.

* * *

Mozzie was glaring at Neal. Everyone could see it. The little guy was fiddling and twitching and there was obviously something he wanted to say.

He didn't touch the cake, even though El cut a slice for him.

Neal made small-talk, asking about how El was doing now the Peter was home and how Peter felt to be home. Peter kept sneaking him glances, which he returned. El peeked between them with knitted brows but kept to script, answering Neal's questions and engaging in the small-talk.

"I cannot watch this charade any longer!" Mozzie cried out, banging his hands on the table and making everyone jump. It was the most amount of noise they had ever heard directly from the little guy.

"Mozzie," El scolded lightly, adjusting the table which had skid slightly under Mozzie's abuse.

"Apologies, Mrs. Suit," Mozzie responded, giving her a soft look before glaring at Neal and demanding, "where were you?"

"Pardon?" Neal said, his voice slightly shaky. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that Mozzie knew. Or suspected, at least.

"Before the Suit suddenly reappeared on the radar, you vanished."

"I was on house arrest," Neal responded, confused, "no visitors. Hardly vanishing."

"Mozzie snuck into June's," El informed him in a soft voice, "you weren't there."

Neal cocked an eyebrow and summoned a smile; they were playing good-cop, bad-cop.

"Neal," Peter said in warning. He had guessed at why Neal had visited and knew that Mozzie's presence had stopped Neal from saying what he needed to say. He didn't think Neal lying in front of, if not to, his wife would be right. Especially since someone had to tell her what was going on. Or what had been going on... Peter had an idea. "Neal," he repeated, drawing his friend's attention. "Tell them what you were doing."

Neal expression turned confused for a moment before realisation dawned. Oh, Mozzie might love this.

"You're right," he said, his smile back and brighter than ever, "I wasn't at June's. I had slipped the anklet in order to break into a corrupt CIA base in order to free Peter."

"What?" El's squeaked in shock.

Mozzie looked at Neal in shock for a moment before pulling out a wine glass and bottle of wine from his suitcase, which had been sitting under his chair the whole time.

"Go on," he said with a twirl of his hand before pouring himself a glass of wine.

"I think I'll take one of those two," El said, moving away to grab a glass for herself.

Neal gave Peter a worried look. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to tell them. But, Peter smiled and nodded at him. And, after sharing a silent conversation with his wife through eye-contact, El added, "well, don't leave us waiting. Go on!"

"Okay." Her movements had been a bit too robotic and jutting for Neal to believe she was comfortable with this. But, Neal went on.

* * *

He told them about breaking into the CIA facility; known to the outside world as 'Kingsley Tech.' to which Mozzie called out, 'I knew it!', and finding Peter locked up in the secret underground levels. He told them about getting Peter out and the events that followed; meeting up with Team Bartowski and getting the Intersect removed. Mozzie was surprised to hear that the Intersect was gone but, not El. Neal figured that Peter already told her that part.

As Neal spoke, he gently guided them and dropped hints. He wanted one of them to say it first; it didn't break any rules if they figured it out first.

El was the first to voice the connection, bluntly.

"You're Bryce Larkin, aren't you?"

Peter groaned, because of course Neal Caffrey would make them figure it out instead of outright telling them.

"That's correct," Neal said, giving her a brilliant smile. The smile faded when he looked at Mozzie. Out of everyone, Mozzie's reaction was the one he feared the most.

Mozzie was silent for a moment, contemplative.

"Think they'll hire me?" he asked.

"What?" Neal.

"Huh?" Peter.

"Oh, Mozzie." El.

"Seriously, Neal," Mozzie was insistent, "I would make a great spy."

"I'm not exactly the best person to ask," Neal said, fiddling with his ear nervously. "I kind of, uh, got Chuck kicked out of Stanford in order to keep him from joining the CIA."

"Neal," El said in a disappointed tone.

"They would have destroyed him," Neal defended himself, "the CIA doesn't care for kindness and they don't hold back. I won't let them have anyone I care about."

El's gaze moved to Peter.

"Peter's safe," Neal said, "he only has a handler on paper. Without the Intersect, the CIA doesn't care what happens to him." Neal left out that they didn't care if he rotted in one of their 'safe cells'. It was only his intervention and the fact that he was currently stationed in Peter's offices, so he was on hand should someone go after the ex-Intersect, that allowed General Beckman to burn Peter's files and let him go.

"Neal left out that he was already completing a mission at the FBI," Peter pointed out in a smug tone, "he's been sending FBI files to the CIA."

Neal shrugged in a 'what can you do?' way.

"That's... ingenious!" Mozzie proclaimed, "you're in the best position to access secret government files and people are looking so closely at the shiny conman that they don't pay attention to the hidden spook." Neal blinked, taken aback by his friend's enthusiasm. This was not what he expected.

* * *

**Author's note: **For those of you who think that this is out-of-character for Mozzie; the whys of Mozzie's reaction will be explored more next chapter. Also, I made up Kingsley Tech. It does not exist.

Also, this chapter had barely been edited. There may be mistakes.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

* * *

Neal was a spy. Mozzie bounced in his seat a little. He had a spy in the back-seat of his cab. A real, honest-to-goodness spy! A spook for the man, but that little factor actually burned less than Neal's anklet deal with the Feds.

Neal was his best friend and the man he considered a brother. Mozzie had taught Neal everything the kid knew; he figured Neal went and used some of that in his spy missions, making him a mentor to a spy. If someone that close to Mozzie could be a spy, then maybe, just maybe, the story eight year old him came up with could be true.

Could his parents really have been spies, forced by their respective governments and the dangers of their job to leave their baby in the hands of another? Neal was a spy so, anything seemed possible.

"Just so you know, Neal," Mozzie said as he pulled the cab up outside June's, "I'm not going to use your position to search for my birth parents."

Neal placed a hand, which had a fifty held between the tweezers fingers, on Mozzie's shoulder.

"I'd need your real name for that, Moz," he pointed out in a light voice and pat. He already knew a few of Mozzie's theories concerning his birth and following abandonment, including the spy one. But, Mozzie hadn't told him about the shadow puppet show yet.

* * *

Chuck pressed his clothes down into the bag. They had managed to fit when he had travelled here, so why didn't they fit now?

"Morgan, you should pack too," he said. Morgan was watching the door, waiting for Neal to come back. Not that he would admit it. They had waited for Jones and Diana to come back and report to Peter. They apologised for following him and interrupting the meeting but, they were still worried about their boss. At any time, his CIA handler could take him away and they would be right back to where they had been just a week ago; no Peter and trying to scrape together enough to figure out where he was. Diana had an idea of how far outside the lines the CIA coloured and she wasn't willing to elaborate. Unlawful imprisonment was the least of their worries.

"I told El," Neal said, causing Chuck to jump. He hadn't even heard him open the door.

"And me!" said a slightly outraged voice. It was the little guy with glasses who had been kidnapped the other day. Mozzie, someone had called him.

"So, you're going to tell Peter's team?" Morgan asked.

Contrary to what he thought, Neal nodded. Chuck dropped a shirt.

"That's great!" he said happily. He liked Jones and Diana, they reminded him a little of Sarah and Casey. Dedicated, caring and smart. People worthy of trust.

"Damn," Morgan commented, "I was hoping to hold that over your head a little more."

"Yeah, well, you'll always have Stanford," Neal quipped, making Morgan laugh. Chuck realised that seeing them get along, sort of, scared him a little.

"Okay, so our flight leaves around lunch tomorrow," he reminded Neal, "we'll spend the morning at the FBI-"

"I'll ask Jones to give you a proper tour this time," Neal interrupted.

* * *

Diana raised her eyebrows, stared at him for a moment and then turned to Peter for confirmation.

Jones frowned. His eyebrows knitted and his forehead wrinkled. Neal apologised for almost getting him hit by a car, as if that was what was bothering him.

"You're okay with this?" Jones asked Peter.

"Yes," Peter responded and then added, "but Neal is still Neal. We're supposed to treat him just like before, he's still a felon on a tracking anklet."

"Thanks, Peter," Neal deadpanned. Peter Burke, eloquent as always.

"He's not your boss, he still has to do paperwork and he can't order you to do anything. He just advises when CIA issues come up."

"Way to talk about the guy keeping you out of a CIA facility," Neal commented, re-wording one of Peter's prison threats.

"Nice, Caffrey," Diana snorted. Jones hid a smile by taking a sip of his coffee.

Peter just shook his head but, Neal could see the amusement in his eyes.

"Well, someone has to give Bryce's friends another tour," Jones pointed out as Neal had already explained Chuck's role; to see as much of the FBI as he could and report if the Intersect flashes on anything or anyone.

"I'll do it," Diana responded instantly with a wicked smile on her face, "I want to hear about Neal at Stanford."

She was out the door before Neal could fully register what she meant. Chuck wouldn't tell her anything, would he? However, deep down, Neal knew he would. There was no reason, except Neal's sanity, to not to.

* * *

It took great self-control for Neal to walk into June's without staggering. It had been a long day of working at the FBI, going to the airport and working at the FBI, again. Chuck just had to tell Diana about some of his less than composed moments and she saw fit to tease him with them.

Just like how he saw fit to adding an extra scoop of sugar to any coffee she had through simple slight-of-hand tricks.

But, the day was over. Chuck was on a flight back to Burbank, with Morgan in tow.

"June?" Neal questioned, seeing his landlady in his apartment. It was odd to see her there while the place was empty, she normally only went in when someone was inside.

"There was a delivery while you were out," she informed him calmly, "I had them deliver it up here."

Confused and intrigued, Neal walked further into the apartment. Propped up against his bed was a large box with a flat-screen television printed on it. It was huge, smaller than Chuck's but larger than his dining table.

"There was also a letter," June said, masking her amusement so that only a small smile showed on her face.

Neal took the letter in a daze and opened it. Chuck had ordered and paid for the television as a gift. Since Peter couldn't have one, he thought Neal might like it. Morgan had put in his two-cents, verbally not literally, and added a game console to attach to the TV into the mix. Neal couldn't tell if this was Morgan's way of forgiving him or punishing him.

June suggested he call Peter to help him set it up and left with a smile still stuck to her face.

Neal couldn't help thinking the team was going to love this. Partly because 'huge television' and partly because it was torturing Neal as there was no where to put it and he didn't even watch much TV in the first place. He was oblivious to the smile on his own face.

* * *

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Chuck was thinking of his old friend with a smile on his face. Maybe they would work together again, hopefully without guns being pointed in his face and determined FBI agents. At the very least, Bryce will be invited to see his child after they are born.

* * *

**Author's notes: **This is the final chapter (I call it: the chapter where everyone messes with Neal). I wanted to end on a warm and fuzzy note. Not completely done with this universe yet, I do have ideas for a few extras and deleted scenes but these will be posted sporadically and the first won't be up for a few days at least (no, I haven't written it).


	20. Morgan Grimes, Super Spy

**Morgan Grimes, Super Spy.**

Outtake

* * *

_ Morgan finds out about Chuck going to New York and arranges to follow._

* * *

Bryce Larkin was back. Back from the dead. Like a zombie. He was a zombie Bryce.

Morgan had seen enough movies to know that was bad news.

"Larkin's just here to get his friend fixed," Casey grumbled at Morgan when he corned him near the air-conditioners. "His FBI moron downloaded an Intersect."

"Come on, man. I know he's bugging you as much as me!" Morgan babbled.

"They'll be gone in a few days, a day even," Casey responded, "until then, just leave him alone. That's what I'll be doing." Pause. "Larkin makes my trigger finger itch," he explained.

"Which is a great reason to look into what he's doing!" Morgan exclaimed.

Casey paused for a moment, considering something. Maybe there was a way for him to kill two birds with one stone. Get Morgan off his back and get a little revenge on Larkin.

"Look, if Larkin's planning anything, then it'll be recorded in Castle," he said, "how about you start there."

* * *

Morgan's jaw drops as he moves through the security camera footage. He sees Bryce's video conference with Beckman and then checks the flight lists from Burbank to New York. It's surprising how easy it is to hack into places from Castle but, Morgan supposes that Chuck's behind that.

And he sees it. Chuck's name on a flight to New York with Peter occupying the seat next to him.

"No way," he said, jumping to complete denial, "there's no way Chuck's going to New York without me." He closed his eyes and opened them but Chuck's name was still there, plain as day. "This cannot be happening." It was Stanford all over again. Sure, Chuck hadn't ignored him but, it hadn't been the same. There had been no Chuck to play games with most nights and then, every time they spoke, Chuck would have a new story about something Bryce did.

He called a few numbers and booked the seat across the aisle from Chuck. His best friend was not going to New York without him.


End file.
